Book 24 - At War With Satan
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: Contains adult content. The landscape of the world is changing, now that Lucifer has set Armageddon in motion. Many members of the God Squad are changing, too, and not for the better. As the war rages on, how far are the principal players willing to go to resolve the situation?
1. How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Chapter 1 - How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Dean sat down heavily in front of the fire. He took a stick and poked around, hoping the food would be heated evenly this time. Last time, half of it had been piping hot, and the other half was stone cold. But at least she was finally letting him build a fire to heat it up with. Dean supposed he'd been pretty hard on her, but he was sick of living rough. His whole body hurt, all of the time. Had there ever been a time that he'd thought he enjoyed camping? Well, if so, he was completely over it. If he got out of this mess alive, from now on it was five-star hotels, all the way.

But he was going to keep his big yap shut today. It was Mother's Day, a touchy day for almost all of their whole group. You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting at least one member of any of their teams who would like to just forget that this day even existed on the calendar.

Dean's entire team took the prize, as far as that dubious distinction was concerned. In prior years, he and Sammy had always had a bit too much to drink, on this particular day, and avoided the subject like the plague.

Then there was Bobby, whose mother had committed suicide. Her soul had been condemned to Hell as a result. Bobby was drinking way too much these days, in the brothers' opinion, but today, he had a free pass.

And then there was Gail. She took a seat on the log beside Dean now. She took both of his hands in hers, surprising him.

"I know this is a difficult day for all of you," Gail told Dean quietly. "I just had a chat with Sam about the same thing." She smiled wryly. "Well, as much chatting as you can get out of him these days, anyway."

Dean nodded. He knew what she was talking about. Sam had grown more and more introverted as the weeks and months went by, and now, he barely spoke at all. Dean couldn't remember the last time Sam had made a joke or flashed his signature grin.

"I told Sam, and I'll tell you, too," Gail continued, "there's no crime in asking for help once in a while. You guys can always talk to me, Dean. I know what day it is today, and I know how crappy it is for me, so I can just imagine what it's like for you guys."

Dean gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "Hey, we're all in the same boat, Gail," he said softly.

She gave him a small shrug. "Not really," she said. "That was Frank's mother. For all I know, mine might still be alive. That is, if my father hasn't murdered her yet. But we'll save that fun discussion for Father's Day. I wonder if Hallmark makes a card for that: 'Thanks for not killing me too, Dad, Love, Your Unwanted Child'."

Dean's eyes narrowed. Was she joking, or not? These days, it was increasingly hard to tell. She had developed a hard edge to her, one that he hated to see. He supposed it was a necessary defense mechanism for her. He and Sammy had been wading through this kind of blood and gore for most of their lives, but Gail had been largely sheltered from it. First, by Frank, when they were growing up together, and then by Cas, up until recently. But it had always been pretty much inevitable that she would be thrust into a life of violence, he supposed. Look who she hung around with. Hell, look who she was married to.

"You never opened that envelope, did you?" Dean asked her.

"I never had time," Gail replied. "After we got back from getting the Netherworld Tablet, we dove right into Christmas preparations. Cas and I never even got the chance to discuss it. But to tell you the truth, I don't see how I could NOT open it. I'm just too curious, especially after what Frank's mom said. Although it'll probably come back and bite me in the ass, like everything seems to do. But hey, how bad could it be? Look at the crapstorm we're dealing with right now."

"When's the last time you talked to Cas?" Dean asked Gail. He released her hands and poked at the fire again.

She shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. I can't remember."

He stared at her. "You don't remember." Dean shook his head slowly. Of all the things that Gail had said during this conversation, this simple statement bothered him the most. "You don't remember?" he repeated, raising his voice.

Gail was annoyed now. "That's what I said, Dean. Which word is tripping you up?"

Dean got angry. He threw the stick into the fire and turned around to face her. "Don't be a smartass," he said sharply. "You don't remember? And you don't find anything wrong with that? The Gail I used to know would have had the time and date and all the details of the conversation written in her diary, with X's and O's and little heart stickers around it."

"Well, maybe I'm not that Gail anymore," she retorted. "I've spent nearly half a year now killing people practically non-stop, so forgive me if I don't remember every little detail of a conversation with my spouse."

"Cas would," Dean said pointedly.

Gail began to cry silently. "You know what, Dean? You can be a real bastard, sometimes," she told him. She stood up, but he grabbed her by the wrist.

"I'm sorry, Gail," he said. "But it's good to know that you still care enough to cry about it."

She wrenched herself out of his grasp. "Well, I'm glad you're so happy," she said tartly. "Just one more thing for me to feel like shit about. Thanks, Dean. Thanks a lot."

Gail winked herself away from the fire so he wouldn't follow her. What he'd said had hurt, and it had hurt a lot. When WAS the last time that she and Cas had had a conversation? And what did Dean care, anyway? He used to complain all the time about how she and Cas were with each other. Just because Dean wasn't able to talk to Nicole didn't mean he should be so mean to Gail.

But she WAS hard now, and she knew it. No more moon-and-June, no more doe eyes. She couldn't afford sentimentality now. With every new day that dawned, it was Gail's responsibility to keep her team alive, and to make sure they killed as many of Lucifer's followers as possible. And, also, to save as many humans as they could, of course. Although sometimes, she had found that it made more sense strategically to sacrifice a few, in order to hold their position.

Gail sat down on a park bench, hanging her head. Yes, it was true. A couple of times, she had deliberately held her team back from attacking the death squad until it was prudent to do so, and humans had sometimes died as a result. Was that the kind of strategy that Cas had employed back in the times of the Angel Wars? Was he using it now? The guilt burned within her. Was this the way he felt all the time? How was he even still sane, then? She'd been tempted so many times to call him and ask him about it, but she was too afraid. What if she told him what she had done, and he was appalled? So she had put off calling him, and when he'd called her, she had made excuses. And every time that happened, she had painted on another hard coat of protection. If this didn't end soon, Gail didn't know how she was ever going to be able to get back to being the person she used to be. Or, if she even wanted to.

Mother's Day. Gail's thoughts drifted to Frank now. How was he doing? What was he feeling?

Frank was feeling ravenous at the moment. He and Jody had stolen a few minutes to do what married couples sometimes did, and now, he was rooting around in the fridge of the house they'd broken into for something to eat.

"Find anything?" Jody asked him. She shuffled into the kitchen, stretching her limbs. She wished they'd been able to take a nap, but they couldn't afford to take the time. Kevin and Tommy were downstairs in the basement watching the news, and the couple had told them they'd only be fifteen minutes or so.

Frank found some lunch meat that passed his sniff test, and he made Jody and himself a sandwich. His team had had it just as rough as the other teams, according to Kevin's reports, but today, Frank felt like a king. He'd gotten to make love to his wife in an actual bed for a change, and now, he was having a sandwich.

He'd known that it was Mother's Day, of course. In this day and age, you couldn't escape the knowledge of those kinds of things, even if you wanted to. His heart ached as he thought of his own mother, as it always did on this day. The last time they'd seen her, she'd been a pathetic, creepy ghost who'd been rude to his sister and her husband. But she was still Frank's Mom, and it always hurt to think of her on this day. Then Frank had started to think about Jody. This must be a hard day for her, too. She'd lost her first son, and they'd been away from Robbie going on six months now, without having spoken to the boy even once. They'd received reports from Chuck via Angel Radio that Robbie and Barry were OK, but it was hardly the same. So Frank had sought to give and receive some comfort from Jody, and one thing had led to another, and here they were.

But it was time to get to get back to business now. They'd had their moment of loving, and they'd also had a cry together, although neither Frank nor Jody would have revealed the latter even under point of torture. There was no way that Frank would allow a pity party, not on his watch. What made their pain greater than anyone else's? How about Kevin, whose mom was also a ghost, killed by Lucifer and stuck in the Netherworld for eternity? How about Tommy, whose mother was still alive, but who had told her son that he was dead to her, just because of his sexual preference? Who had died and made her God, anyway? Frank couldn't believe how closed-minded some people could be. Tommy was a great guy, a stand-up individual who Frank felt privileged to fight beside and more importantly, to call his friend. It could be argued that Tommy's pain was the worst of all, because in his mother's view, it was Tommy who was dead, not her.

And how about Gail? How must she be feeling today? His sister had had two mothers, and apparently, neither one of them had wanted her. How great must that feel? And at least Frank and Jody had each other. Cas and Gail hadn't seen each other since last Christmas. This must be killing them.

Frank grabbed Jody's hand and kissed it. Yeah, all things being equal, he was a pretty lucky guy.

"Dean told me about the fight," Sam said to Gail. He sat down beside her on the bench.

"Fight? What fight?" Gail said to him. "Your brother's an ass. End of story."

"Hey, you don't have to tell me that," Sam said mildly. "I've known that for thirty-five years now."

Gail's lips started to twitch, but she made them stop. No. Sam wasn't going to get her that easily.

Sam sighed. He'd been hoping. But he had noticed the change in Gail, too. It was amazing how much you were able to observe just by looking, Sam thought to himself. Had Yogi Berra said that? If not, he should have. But, Berra-ism or not, it was true. Sam had seen the thick curtain come gradually down over Gail's face as the weeks and months had gone by, and he had understood. Just as Sam had retreated into himself for protection, Gail had crafted this persona for herself, a sort of female version of Warrior Cas. An individual who did whatever was necessary to get the job done. An emotional automaton. Sam had understood that that was what she needed to do for herself in order to survive this. But now she was starting to believe her own press, and they couldn't let that happen.

"I think you owe Dean an apology," Sam said bluntly. There. See what she did with that.

Predictably enough, she turned on him. "You have got to be kidding me with this," Gail said angrily. "Did he tell you what he said to me?"

"Yeah, he did, and he's right," Sam insisted. "You need to talk to Cas."

"Oh, what would you know about it?" she snapped. "You have no idea how I feel. None of you do."

Sam let out a frustrated breath. "No? You might be surprised." He continued to stare at her. Gail might have a hard shell now, but to the best of his knowledge, she still had all her brain cells intact.

Gail saw him staring, and she made a face. Yes, she knew exactly what he was talking about. That particular elephant had been tamed and turned into a circus animal now, but it would never completely go away, no matter how many women Sam would date, or take to bed. But that didn't mean that they were ever going to talk about it.

"You know, for a guy who hasn't talked in weeks, you picked one hell of a topic," Gail said instead, and her tone was bitter. "Maybe you need to mind your own business."

"You are my business," Sam said calmly. "You, and Dean, and Bobby. And Cas."

"Fine. Then YOU lead the frigging squad. I'm tired of it, anyway," she shot back.

Sam smiled grimly. Now, they were getting somewhere. He had been surprised, to say the least, when Cas had designated Gail as the leader of their team. Maybe it was because she was the one with the otherworldly powers, or maybe it had been designed to give her some confidence. But whatever the reason, Sam thought the decision had been an error on Cas's part. Not tactically, because she had shown herself to be a very competent and shrewd leader. But emotionally speaking, Sam thought that Cas had done a real disservice to his wife. Just because Cas could handle that kind of a role didn't mean that Gail could.

"I know you're tired, Gail," he said softly. "You need to talk to Cas and tell him how you feel. Ask for his emotional support."

"Would you be saying that to him, if the situation was reversed?" she asked Sam.

He couldn't help but smile. "Bad example, Gail. Yes. Yes, I would."

"Shut up, Sam," she said quickly, and he started to grin. He was getting to her now. They'd be sharing a laugh in a minute.

Sam opened his mouth to speak again, but Gail held up her hand. "No, I mean it, Sam," she insisted. Then she frowned. "Demons."

Suddenly, half a dozen Demons appeared in front of them. Sam and Gail leaped off of the bench, pulling out their Demon knives. Gail repelled one Demon with her golden beams, but two more grabbed her from behind, holding her arms. Sam was fighting the other three. He killed one right away and was tussling with the others when the Demon that Gail had repelled got up and took out his Angel blade. As Gail struggled fiercely to get free, he rushed forward and stabbed her in the stomach.

Gail yelled in pain, and the sight of her bleeding galvanized Sam, who killed both Demons he'd been fighting with. Then he ran over and helped free Gail from her captors. As soon as her arms were loose, she repelled one of the Demons who had been holding her and killed the other, as Sam dispatched the one who had stabbed her. Sam went after the one she had repelled as Gail collapsed to the ground, clutching her stomach. But the Demon saw Sam coming, and It escaped the vessel It was in before Sam could get there.

The younger Winchester wheeled around. Gail was laying on the grass, bleeding copiously. That guy had gotten her good. She wasn't going to die or anything, but she was losing blood rapidly, he noticed.

Sam fell to his knees by her side, picking her up in his arms. "Get me inside, Sam," she said weakly, gritting her teeth. Then she passed out.

Gail opened her eyes slowly. Where was she? All she saw were books on shelves. Was she back in the bunker?

Sam was kneeling at her side, pressing on her stomach wound. He'd folded up his jacket and was using it to try to soak up some of the blood. But the jacket was saturated now, and she was still bleeding. This was ridiculous. What the hell kind of a knife had that Demon used?

Dean was pacing back and forth across the library floor. Sam and Gail had been sitting on a bench in front of the town's library when they'd been attacked. It was after hours, but Sam had slipped the lock and brought Gail inside. Then, he had run over to the desk and called Dean on his cell. Cell phones had been forbidden by Cas, but Dean had brought his, anyway. Dean agreed with Cas that there shouldn't be any chit-chatting or ringing phones, but he'd also thought it was nuts to rely on Angel communications alone. So he had received Sam's frantic call, then collected Bobby, and the two of them had hightailed it over to the library. But not before Dean had made a call of his own.

Sam was frowning now. "I can't get the bleeding under control," he told Dean and Bobby.

"Don't worry, Cas'll be here in a minute," Dean said to his brother.

"What?!" Gail exclaimed. She tried to sit up, but the pain was too great, and Sam was holding her down. "What are you talking about?"

"I called Chuck and told him to call Cas," Dean told her.

"Well, un-call him!" she said, agitated. "I don't want him to leave his team."

Dean shrugged. "Too bad. When you passed out, I took command, and I decided he's coming."

"Well, that's a bad decision," she shot back.

"Oh, yeah?" he retorted. "Then let me put it in terms that General Gail should understand: You need to be healed, because you're of no use to us like this. Do you get that?"

"All right, Dean, that's enough," Cas said wearily. He had just popped into the room, and he'd heard their angry exchange. When Chuck had called Cas to report what Dean had said, he'd told Cas that Dean had sounded very upset. And not only about Gail's wound, either. There was something very wrong over there.

Cas had been reluctant to leave his team too, but he'd had to go to her, of course. He'd turned to Ethan, who was already nodding. "Of course you need to go," Ethan had assured Cas. "I'll keep us here on lockdown until you return."

So Cas was at Gail's side now, and he removed Sam's jacket from her stomach, placing it on the floor. He laid both of his hands on her wound, and the blue glow suffused her torso. A moment later, the wound was gone.

Cas stood, looking at Bobby and the Winchesters. "Can you please leave us alone for a minute?" he asked the men. Then he put his hand out for Sam to shake. "Thank you for being there for her," Cas said. They shook, and then Cas looked at Dean. "And thank you, for calling Chuck on that phone you're not supposed to have." He put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "It's good to see all of you," Cas told his friends in a soft voice.

Dean put his hand on top of Cas's. "You too, man," he said in a thick voice. Then he said, "Do me a favour? Convince her not to kill me." Dean nodded towards Gail, and then he left the room with the others.

Cas walked back to Gail and sat down on the floor beside her. "How are you, my love?" he said, taking her hand.

Gail wasn't looking at him, but she waved her hand absently, cleaning the blood from both of them. She no longer needed her blade in her hand to make the golden rays come. "Don't ask me that," she said tonelessly. "I'm sure you and Dean had a nice little chat about what a bitch I am now. He hates me now, Cas. But, you know what? That's OK, because I hate him, too. He knew I didn't want you to come, but he called you, anyway."

Cas's heart sank. It was worse than he had thought. "Gail, look at me. Please."

"I don't want to," she said. "You look so sad."

"Of course I'm sad," he replied. "I miss you so much."

"Quit it, Cas," she said sharply. "I mean it. I'll pop out of here right now, I swear."

He picked her up off the floor and held her in his lap, cradling her in his arms. "You don't hate Dean, and he certainly doesn't hate you," Cas told her softly. "The one you hate is me, and rightly so. I'm the one who sent you out here. This is all my fault."

As he had hoped, her body stiffened, and she said, "It's not your fault; it's Lucifer's."

Cas was glad to hear her expressing her anger. He could understand it, and he could relate to it. That meant there was still hope for her. He hugged her tightly, then he pulled out of the embrace and cupped her face with his hand, making her look at him. "I love you, and I miss you so much that it hurts much more than any wound I could ever sustain," Cas said to her. "I want to hear you say that you feel the same way. Or, if you don't, you can tell me that, too. Just tell me how you feel, Gail. Talk to me."

"How the hell do you think I feel, Cas?" she asked him irritably.

"Angry. Discouraged. Tired. And sad," Cas responded. He gave her a small smile. "Am I in the ballpark?"

Gail sighed. "Well, if you knew all of that, why did you ask?"

Cas touched her lips with his thumb, to see if he could feel a smile. But it was difficult to tell. Then she kissed his thumb, and he let out a relieved breath. She was still reachable.

"I love you, Cas, and I miss you so much that it's like a million of those stomach wounds, all at once," she told him. The tears prickled at her eyes now. "I didn't mean it when I said I didn't want you to come. I've been wanting you to come, to see me, every minute of every day. I've been fighting Lucifer's soldiers, but I've also been fighting myself. I've been fighting the urge to call you and beg you to come, and I've been fighting the urge to just desert my post and come where you are. I didn't want to hug you, because I was afraid I'd never be able to let you go."

Gail was crying now, and she was touching his face with both of her hands. It normally broke Cas's heart to see her cry, and it still did, but he was glad, too. This was his Gail. "Please keep your faith, my darling," he said to her. "We will prevail."

"How can you be so sure, Cas?" Gail said doubtfully.

Now he smiled. "Because, as a very wise person once told me, love trumps everything."

Gail threw her arms around him, and he kissed her on the mouth. She kissed him back and he gave her a squeeze, then released her. "I'd better get back," Cas said to her. Then he smiled again. "Do you want me to punch Dean before I go?"

Finally, he was rewarded with a laugh. "No, but I may have to call you to come back and do it, when HE punches ME," she said dryly. Then she sighed. "He's put up with a lot from me, Cas. They all have. I've been spending so much time trying not to fall apart that I've forgotten that everybody's trying not to fall apart."

Cas nodded. It did his heart good to hear her talk like that. Empathy was one of her many, many most lovable qualities, and it was a hallmark of her true nature. As long as she could still exhibit that to him, she would be fine. He had feared that his decision to send her out here to lead had been a mistake. He knew what a toll that type of role could take on an individual, having lived with it himself for much of his existence in Heaven. But he had felt that Gail had progressed enough to handle it.

"OK, give me one more kiss and then take off, before I wrap myself around you like a boa constrictor and refuse to let you go," Gail said to her husband now, and he laughed. What a miracle that they had both been able to laugh today.

"You say that as if it would be a bad thing," Cas quipped in a light tone. She smiled, and he kissed her on the lips, then on the nose, and then on her lips once again. He wanted to retain the memory of her smile against his lips.

Then he winked himself away.

Becky was trimming her fingernails short, just like Ethan had taught her. Before all this had happened, she'd had lovely long fingernails, which she used to polish and maintain. But they were a liability, Ethan had told her. So he'd advised that she should cut them short, and she had complied. It was gross cleaning all the blood out from underneath them, anyway.

She grabbed the nail file she'd found in the bureau drawer of the bedroom of the house they were holed up in and started to file her fingernails. Suddenly, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

Becky rolled her eyes. That could only be Riley. "Come in, Riley," she said, shaking her head.

But it wasn't Riley, or any of her group. It was a human man who opened the door, and he grinned when he saw her sitting on the bed.

"Hey, Baby," he said. He entered the room, shutting the door behind him. "What's Castiel doing, leaving a girl as pretty as you are all alone like this?"

Becky smiled. "You really think I'm pretty?"

"You sure are," he said. He approached her, still smiling. "My boss wants me to kill you, but if you play ball, maybe I won't."

"Play ball?" Becky said in her ditsiest voice. "But I don't like sports."

The man laughed. He bent down to look at her more closely. Now he saw why this one was on Castiel's team. She obviously wasn't smart enough to take care of herself. He reached out to grab her. But Becky grabbed him, instead. She drove the nail file she had behind her back into one of his eyeballs, and then into the other. Cas had taught her quite a few ways to incapacitate a man. If you took away his eyesight, for instance, you could pretty much do whatever you wanted to do after that. Then she gripped the bloody nail file tighter and cut the man's throat with it. Once you had your enemy down, you should go right for the kill, Cas had instructed. Every moment you wasted hesitating was a moment that the enemy gained to regroup. The blood came spouting out of the man's throat. Becky had cut him deep.

Becky sprang off the bed and ran over to the dresser, where she'd put her Demon knife down when she had grabbed the nail file. Lucky the man had been a human. Cas was right; you should always keep your weapon on you, somewhere. Always. She crossed over to the bedroom door and flung it open, calling out for Ethan or Riley.

But a moment later, Castiel appeared. "They're outside," he told her. "What's the matter?"

She gestured behind her into the bedroom, and he saw the blood on her. He withdrew his blade, rushing into the room. His jaw dropped when he saw the dead man laying on the bed. His throat was still gushing blood.

Cas looked at Becky, astonished. "Did you do this?" he asked her.

She showed him the bloody nail file. "Yeah, Cas." She walked over to the bed and looked down at the corpse dispassionately. Then she wiped the nail file on the dead man's pants and put it in her pocket.

Cas continued to gape at her as Riley and Ethan entered the room. "Wow, Becky," Riley said quietly. "Remind me never to make you mad."

Castiel smiled slowly. A part of him felt sad that he'd had to educate a young, innocent Angel such as Becky in the art of murder. But mostly, he was proud of her. This was war, and she'd had to defend herself. Cas was pretty sure he knew what that piece of filth would have had in mind for her.

"How's Gail?" Ethan asked Cas.

"She'll be all right," Cas told him, somewhat unconvincingly.

"Well, good," Ethan replied heartily. The inflection of Cas's voice hadn't escaped him, though. "Now that you know we can all take care of ourselves, you can pop over to see her more often. If Becky can do THIS, you won't need to worry as much about us. No offense, Becky," he added quickly, and the men all smiled.

She waved her hand airily. "None taken, Ethan." She smiled at Cas. "Ethan's right, Cas," Becky told him. "You and Gail have to see each other from time to time. Just like humans need oxygen, you two need each other to survive." And besides, she's been out there with Sam for far too long, Becky thought to herself. She'd seen war movies and TV shows. Sometimes when men and women were together under such stressful conditions, things happened between them that they didn't intend to happen. Becky knew that Sam had feelings for Gail, and if her husband was never around, who knew what could happen?

"I agree, Cas," Ethan chimed in. "I know we're all Angels, but when we first saw you just now, you looked - "

" - Twenty years younger," Riley finished for him.

The young Angels all looked at each other and then laughed, and Cas smiled wearily. "I think we should refer to today as the Day of Miracles," he told his charges. "I got to see my wife and make her laugh, Becky has dispatched an enemy quite admirably, and now, Riley is insulting me about my age. All blessings from our Father, even that last one." He clapped Riley on the shoulder, to show his young protegee that he was only joking.

Castiel's heart felt lighter now, as his group prepared to leave the house. So much so, in fact, that he sent Gail a message of love on their private frequency, letting her know that he would check in on her again, soon.

Quinn was in the seance room dusting the furniture when she got the strongest urge she'd ever received. She drew the black drapes and doused the light, then she sat down at the table. This felt a little ridiculous. She was all alone. But a moment later, Linda appeared. Quinn was startled. A spirit, manifesting from the veil all by itself? As far as she knew, this was unprecedented.

"Hi, Linda," she said. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Is it true that Lucifer has started Armageddon?" Linda said bluntly. "Is he sending out death squads to kill humans in different spots on the Earth?"

Quinn's heart sank. So that was what had been going on. She'd seen on the news that there had been systematic murders in other parts of the States, and Europe, and Africa, and some of those towns had undergone quite a bit of property damage, as well. There had also been rumours of rapes, and satanic rituals. But just as the police had begun to investigate, there were reports of other, mystery groups that would appear out of nowhere and start murdering the murderers. Then, the crimes would cease altogether, and then resume in another place.

"I believe that's exactly what is happening," Quinn responded, explaining to Linda what she'd been seeing on the news.

Linda was frantic. Luke had been right. "Dammit!" she swore. "They only need one more item, but Luke won't give it up! And now, he's kicked me out of his house. We could put a stop to this once and for all if we could just find out what the damn thing is! But my cover is blown now, Quinn. I need you to tell Castiel that."

Quinn sighed. She promised Linda that she would do what she could to relay the message. Then Linda told Quinn she'd manifest again if there was any news, or if Quinn were to summon her. Then she was gone.

The medium sat there for a moment, thinking. She was pretty sure that all of her contacts would be in those mystery groups that were fighting the Devil's followers. Then she shrugged and took her cell phone out of her pocket. All she could do was try.

Barry was passing by Sam's room in the hallway, and he heard a phone ringing. He entered Sam's room and went to the nightstand by the bed. Sam had left his cell there, and it was this phone that Barry was hearing. He looked at the Call Display. Quinn.

Barry answered the phone. "I'm sorry, but Sam isn't here right now," he told the psychic. "Is there a message?"

Quinn told him about Linda's appearance, and what she had said. "Leave it with me," Barry said. He hung up and called Chuck's cell number, which he'd committed to memory, relaying the message to Chuck to pass on to Cas.

Then Barry continued on down the hall to the living room area, where Robbie was sitting, flipping through channels on the TV.

"Supper's ready," Barry told the boy.

"I'm not hungry," Robbie said shortly.

"I made one of your favourites," Barry cajoled.

"What part of 'I'm not hungry' don't you understand, Barry?" Robbie retorted.

Barry's eyes narrowed, but Robbie was speaking in his own voice, not Lucifer's. Ever since that one incident, as far as Barry knew, that had never happened again. But it was almost worse this way. Another birthday had come and gone for Robbie, and Barry had done the best he could, but it had been a miserable day. Robbie was a teenager now, and he was starting to act out. Anything Barry asked him to do, it seemed, Robbie would do the opposite. He'd informed Barry that he wanted to be called "Rob" now. "Robbie" was a name for little kids.

Rob was bitter now, and Barry could understand why. Most of his childhood had been stolen from him, and nearly all of his parents had been now, too. It had been just the two of them in the bunker for so long now that it often felt like they were the only survivors of a nuclear war, or something, condemned to stay underground until they died of old age.

"I get that you're angry, and frustrated," Barry said to the boy, "but so am I, and there's no reason to speak to me like that."

"Whatever," Robbie said, shrugging. "Leave me alone."

Barry sat there for a moment, staring at Robbie. No: Rob. What the hell was he supposed to do here? He couldn't let this stand, but he couldn't be too tough on the boy, either. Barry was at a total loss. Frank and Jody would know what to do, and so would Tommy, he was sure. But he had no clue.

After a minute, he walked back down the hallway to the kitchen and called Chuck again, asking him to come. A moment later, Chuck appeared. He told Barry that he had given Cas Quinn's message, and that everyone was fine. Well, physically, anyway. Then Barry told Chuck about his conversation with Rob.

"What should I do, Chuck?" Barry asked the Angel.

Chuck thought about that for a minute. Hell if he knew. He'd never had any kids, nor had he spent much time around them. What would he know about it? But then it occurred to Chuck that, as somebody who'd spent a great deal of time feeling angry and bitter, he might actually be the ideal person to talk to the boy.

"I'll go out there," he told Barry. "Maybe you should stay here, though. We don't want it to look like we're ganging up on him."

"Chuck," Rob said coolly when he saw the Angel. "Did Barry call you to come here and talk to me?"

Chuck drew up a chair from the library table and sat down. "Nope," he said, "but he did mention that you've been acting like a little snothead."

That got Rob's attention. He turned off the TV and threw the remote on the coffee table. Then he looked at Chuck. "I watch the news every night," Rob told the Angel. "And every night, there are reports about all of the murders in all of those towns all over the world. Every damn night, since they all left at Christmastime. It never ends, Chuck. It's never gonna end. You know, they might as well have taken me with them and given me over to the Demons, 'cause I have no life here. I can't go out, I can't go to school, I have no friends, and I have nothing to look forward to. Barry baked me a cake for my birthday, but that was it. No card, no presents. Nothing. Do you know if we're even gonna have a Christmas, this year?"

Chuck frowned. He had been letting the kid vent because he understood where he was coming from, but he had to nip this in the bud, now. "I thought you told Barry you weren't a little kid anymore," Chuck said calmly.

"I'm not," Rob replied.

"Then why are you bawling like a baby?" Chuck said, raising his voice. "'Waaah, waaah, waaah. I have a crappy life. I didn't get a present on my birthday.' Well, isn't that a damn shame. Do you want to know what kind of crappy lives they're all having? Their greatest birthday present is not getting raped, or tortured, or killed!" Chuck continued in a harsh tone. "Grow up, 'Rob'! If you want to be an adult, then act like an adult!"

Rob gaped at Chuck. He had expected his Uncle Chuck to coddle him, telling him to have faith, and that everything would work out OK. Just like Barry always did.

Then Chuck softened, seeing the expression on the boy's face. "Look, Rob, I know how much it sucks. But you have to realize that it sucks for everyone, some more than others. But you can't let it turn you into a dick. I spent too much of my life being bitter and resentful, and it got me nowhere. But then, when I finally decided I wanted something better for myself, I became a better person, and when I did, I received so many blessings, Rob. Don't do what I did, kid. Don't become me."

Rob looked into Chuck's eyes. He could tell his Uncle was being sincere. Rob had seen things in his visions about Chuck, some things that weren't very nice. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Uncle Chuck," he said, sounding more like himself. "I don't want to be a dick. I just want our family back."

Chuck nodded. "So do I, Rob. So does Barry. Can you imagine how he feels? He hasn't seen his own fiance since Christmas. I talk to Uncle Cas on Angel Radio a couple of times a week and he gives me updates, but it's not the same."

Rob thought about that. He'd never actually thought about it from Barry's point of view before. He'd been so busy thinking about how this sucked for him to stop and consider how it might be sucking for everybody else.

Rob got up from the couch and walked down the hall to the kitchen, Chuck trailing behind. The boy went right to Barry, who had been sitting glumly at the table, picking at a plate of food. Barry rose from his chair and Rob threw his arms around Barry. "I'm sorry," the boy said, and now he was sniffling back tears.

Barry hugged the boy to him. He looked at Chuck in amazement. He'd been trying to get Rob to come around for weeks. Just ten minutes with Chuck, and the boy was himself again.

Chuck gave Barry a small shrug. Today's victory was a nice one, but they would have to try to spend more time getting Rob to talk things out. Now that he was a teenager, they would soon be dealing with a crapstorm of hormonally-charged emotions and teenage angst, along with everything else. Chuck sighed inwardly. Poor Barry.

Frank's group was in Flint, Michigan on Independence Day. It looked like they were going to have a rare day off. Tommy and Kevin had just popped back to where Frank and Jody were waiting in the park, with the report that the Demons and the bikers had started a beer bash on the outskirts of town. They were Americans, Kevin and Tommy had overheard the humans saying, and they were going to take the day off to celebrate the birth of the best damn country in the world.

"It's just an excuse for them to get loaded," Tommy told Frank, "but it gives us a bit of a breather, anyway."

Frank nodded. Good deal. He should have figured as much, too. This particular group seemed a lot less interested in killing people than some of the others had been. Maybe it was because it was just too damn hot, or maybe this bunch weren't exactly self-starters. Jason was supposed to be their team leader, according to Paul's intel, but Frank hadn't seen hide nor hair of the vampire. And he had definitely been looking. Apparently, Jason had no interest in Lucifer's agenda. He must be off somewhere, pursuing one of his own. It would actually be a pretty good time to be a vampire, Frank had thought with grim amusement. With all of the death and mayhem and blood around, Jason could just flit around and snack with impunity. Who would even notice? But Frank was disappointed that Jason wasn't anywhere around. After Romania, he felt like he owed him one.

Not that there wasn't plenty of work to be had for a dedicated Hunter like Frank, and his team worked very well as a cohesive unit by now. But today, they could probably stand down. It was funny, really. Frank may be a Hunter, but he had a fairly prim and proper set of ethics, too. Cas would probably just pop over there and wait until the squad was piss-eyed drunk and chop them all up. But Frank couldn't bring himself to do it. Unless they were attacking humans, it felt wrong to him. That was probably gonna come back and bite him in the ass. Still, his team could use the rest.

"Let's take a walk around the park," Frank suggested. "I smell a barbecue. Maybe we can suck up and beg a hotdog or three."

A few minutes later, they came upon a group of half a dozen big, burly men drinking beer and cooking hotdogs on a portable grill.

"Oh, man," Frank groaned. "Beer and hot dogs. Sam and Dean should be here. They'd think they died and went to Heaven."

"If they did, they wouldn't be eating hot dogs," Kevin quipped. "Kind of a Catch-22, when you think about it."

"Nobody likes a smartass, Kevin," Frank said, but he was smirking now.

Jody was looking at the man who was doing the grilling. Why did he look familiar to her?

Matt stood there, holding the tongs in his hand. He looked at Frank's group, open-mouthed. "Hey! It's the Angels!" he exclaimed.

Frank's guard went up immediately. Who the hell was this guy, and why would he say that? "Who are you?" he barked, dropping his hand to his belt. His Demon knife was in a sheath in the back, and it would do for whichever flavour this guy was.

But Jody put her hand on top of Frank's. "We saw him on CNN, Frank. He was one of our designates from that last plane."

Oh, right. Now Gail's brother remembered. The rough-and-tumble guy, who grabbed the microphone from the reporter and gave Lucifer the finger. Both fingers, actually.

"Hi," Frank said to Matt. He approached the man and extended his hand for a shake. "Happy Independence Day."

Matt handed the tongs to another guy in his group and shook Frank's hand. "Matt," he said. He looked at Jody and Tommy. "It's good to see you again," he told them. "I never got the chance to thank you all for saving our lives that day."

"Well, you can thank us right now, if you've got a couple of extra hot dogs," Frank said, smiling. "I guess we'd better take a pass on the beer, though."

"Hot dogs?" Matt said, puzzled. "I thought that Angels didn't eat."

Frank made a face. "Yeah, about that..." He explained that only some members of their group were Angels, while others were not. "It was just easier at that point to say we all were," he told Matt. "Besides, we wanted to send Lucifer a message." He frowned. "Apparently, he got it."

"Are you guys here to deal with those death douchebags?" Matt asked them, and Kevin laughed. Frank looked at the young Angel. "Sorry, but that was funny," Kevin remarked. "It sounded like something Dean would say."

Frank nodded. He realized he wasn't the only one who was missing all of their friends. "Yeah. You're right," he agreed. He looked back at Matt. "'The death douchebags'," Frank repeated. "You should go back on CNN and say that. Maybe then, people would pay attention."

"I know, right?" Matt said, nodding. "It's like most of the people you talk to have their heads in the sand. Or up their butts, maybe. Everyone's in denial. So, I got this small group of mine together," he continued, indicating the men he was with. "They're cops and firefighters, and I'm a construction worker. Let the Village People jokes commence."

Frank grinned. He was really starting to like this guy.

"We've decided we're not gonna just bend over and take it," Matt went on. "We're all armed, and if any of those guys decide to start anything here, we're gonna be ready for them."

"That's great, but only some of them are humans," Jody chipped in. "You can't kill a Demon with a gun, or an ordinary knife."

"A Demon?!" one of Matt's friends exclaimed.

"Yes, a Demon," Tommy said, with a touch of impatience. "Like the beings that hijacked those planes."

"You guys seemed to do all right," Matt countered.

"We have special, Demon-killing knives," Frank told him.

Oh. Matt thought for a minute. "Well, have you got any extras? How about we trade you? Demon knives for hot dogs?"

Frank smiled, but he was shaking his head. "Hey, we'd just give them to you, if we had any extras. But we've only got one per person."

"I know where there are lots of Demon knives," Kevin piped up. "The weapons room in Heaven."

Matt's eyebrows shot up. "There's a weapons room in Heaven?"

Kevin was grinning now. "You'd be surprised what's up there," he told the men.

Frank was intrigued. This bore some exploration. Then he decided: "Kevin, can you call Cas and find out if he's got a minute? Then, if he does, I want you to pop me over there to talk to him." Frank looked at Jody as Kevin made the call. "Will you and Tommy be OK for a minute, if you'll stay here with these guys?"

"Sure, Frank," she told him, nodding her head. "I think that's a conversation you and Cas need to have."

Frank smiled at his wife appreciatively. She was right there with him, as always.

"We're good to go, Frank," Kevin said.

Frank removed his Demon knife from its sheath, asked Kevin for his, and passed them both to Matt. "Here," he said to the man. "Just in case. We'll be back in just a few, but if you mean what you're saying and there is an attack, I don't want to take the chance. We're going to pop over to Africa and see the head Angel. I'm sure you'd remember him from the plane. Dark hair, black blazer, total badass?"

"Yeah, of course I remember him," Matt replied. "But how are you gonna pop over to Africa? I thought you weren't an Angel."

"I'm not, but he is," Frank said, gesturing to Kevin, who sketched a brief salute. Then Frank looked at the grill. "Hey, can you hook a brother up with a couple of those?"

Matt smiled. "Sure." He fixed two hot dogs for Frank. Frank gobbled one immediately, then took Kevin's hand with that hand, waving the other hot dog. "I've always wanted to try this," Frank told the group. "Let's see if I can eat and teleport at the same time."

Jody laughed as Frank and Kevin winked out of the park.

Seconds later, Kevin and Frank reappeared in Mali, in the little cottage that Cas had given Kevin the coordinates for. Frank was chewing and swallowing the last remnants of his hot dog.

Kevin was staring at Gail's brother. "Interesting," he remarked.

Cas entered the cottage and closed the door behind him. He regarded both men for a moment, and then he rushed over to them. He gave Kevin a brief hug, and Frank a longer one.

Then Cas came out of the embrace and scrutinized Frank's face, squinting. He touched the corner of Frank's mouth with his fingertips. "You have a yellow substance on your face," Cas stated.

Frank smirked. "It's mustard and get your hand off my face. You're confusing me with my sister."

Cas's expression darkened as he removed his hand, then turned his back on Frank.

"Aww, Cas, I'm sorry, man," Frank said quickly. "I didn't mean to - "

"Why are you here, Frank?" Cas said in a clipped tone.

Frank sighed, wiping the mustard off his face with the back of his hand. "We want to talk to you about Heaven's weapons."

Patricia was at the reception desk talking softly to Laurel when Kevin and Cas popped into Heaven.

Cas strode over to Laurel. "I need the key to the weapons room," he said without preliminary.

Laurel nodded, reaching into her top desk drawer. "Here are the keys to the cabinet in Bobby's - sorry, in the High Office," she amended, handing them to him. "Everything's labelled in there. All the keys, all the access codes."

Cas was impressed by her organization, and he told her this now. She smiled. "Well, let's face it, I haven't had that much to do, with the Office empty. I'm hoping we can resolve that situation, soon."

"Me, too," Cas replied. "That's why we're here. There are a few humans who have expressed a desire to take up arms and stand against Lucifer's followers."

Patricia spoke up. "You're going to give humans Heavenly weapons?" she blurted out.

Cas looked at her coolly. "No, not Heavenly weapons. Just Demon knives," he advised her. There had been something about the way she'd said that, something that had rubbed Cas the wrong way. Her tone had reminded him of the Upper Echelon members', when they used to put Cas down for spending so much time with humans. A superior, disdainful tone. Or maybe Cas was just ultra-sensitive about that.

For her part, Patricia felt that same strange mix of emotions right now. Castiel was waltzing in here giving orders, just as she had feared he would. On the other hand, she supposed the more soldiers they had, the better, even if they were humans. And Castiel was saying he was only going to take Demon knives. She didn't think he would be able to touch the really powerful Holy weapons, anyway. So far as Patricia knew, those could only be handled by God.

"It's good to see you're finally stepping up for Heaven," Patricia said to Castiel, whose eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?" Cas asked her.

Patricia shrugged. "I simply mean that you have sometimes been otherwise occupied, when you were needed here," she said bluntly.

"He can't be everywhere, Patricia," Laurel said mildly. "Only our Father can."

"Well, the way Castiel's been acting, I thought he thought he WAS our Father, for a minute, there," Patricia responded tartly. "It's not like there wouldn't be a precedent for that."

Cas moved closer to Patricia now, staring at her. That was a sore subject for him. He was surprised that she would say something like that about him, though. Wasn't Patricia a friend of theirs?

Kevin and Laurel exchanged uncomfortable glances as Castiel and Patricia stared at each other. There was a strange vibe coming from the two of them, Laurel thought. Almost as if they were adversaries. How odd.

Castiel had moved close to Patricia now, so that he could read her face. He was so close now that he was encroaching on what Dean had taught him was called "personal space". But he was doing it on purpose now; sometimes it was the best way to gauge how the person you were speaking with truly felt about you.

Patricia bore Castiel's steady gaze, but her hand was starting to itch now. Part of her sorely wanted to reach up and rake her fingernails down his face. To show him how she really felt about him, now. To scream at him, and tell him she was onto him and Gail, and what sort of people they really were.

"What's the matter, Patricia?" Cas asked quietly. "Is there some sort of a problem I should know about?"

Patricia was seething now. Yes, there was definitely a problem he should have known about. How about Lucifer having interfered with her, just steps away from where they were standing right now? How about that?

"Problem? What kind of a problem could there be, Castiel?" she said in a quivering voice. He was standing too close now, but she was determined to stand her ground.

"You tell me," Cas replied coolly. "You've been acting strangely ever since I got here, and I don't know why you would have said what you did about me behaving like our Father. It was hurtful, and it was uncalled for."

"Oh, was it?" she said offhandedly. And that was all. If he said one more thing, she was going to give herself away. But it was too soon. She needed Lucifer taken care of. She took a step back. "I have to get back to work now." Then Patricia turned her back on the group and scurried back to her department.

Cas stared after her for a moment. OK, that had been very odd. But he had no time to worry about it right now. He and Kevin went and got the knives, and they popped back down to Earth.

"Actually, there's a death squad just outside town," Frank told Matt and his friends, after arming them with the Demon knives Kevin had brought from Heaven. Cas had not accompanied him, wanting to get back to his own team. "If you want, we'll hang around and help you handle them," Frank continued. He smiled wryly. "The humans will be hung over as hell tomorrow anyway, and there'll be more than enough of us to handle the Demons. Piece of cake."

"Sounds good," Matt said. "We're gonna lay off the beer now, but I'll put some more hot dogs on the grill. Burgers, too, if you want."

Frank clapped a hand on Matt's shoulder. "Matty, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

So, Frank's group combined with Matt's group and the next day, they made short work of the decimated death squad. After some discussion the day before, they had decided to call one of the local TV news stations, telling them to be in the park with cameras, ready to film something memorable. The instant one of the advance scouts appeared in the park and Kevin saw the black eyes, he gave the signal, and one of Matt's guys whipped out his cell phone and called the station. He'd described to the reporter the type of situation that was about to occur, figuring that they wouldn't be able to resist filming such compelling television.

And it had been the right call. By the time the news crews got there, the battle was just beginning. The cameramen scrambled to get their equipment out of the truck. This was unbelievable. Two groups of people, having a vicious battle to the death. One team even had a woman on it, but she was just as tough as any of the men, by the looks of it. The fight was fairly lopsided too, from what they could see. As Frank had predicted, the humans on the squad had raging hangovers. One guy even had to interrupt his knife fight with Tommy to bend over and puke. If the situation hadn't been so potentially lethal, Tommy would have laughed. As the guy bent over, Tommy reached into his belt for the gun he had stashed in a holster on his hip and shot the man in the head, execution-style. Then Tommy ran over to help Kevin and one of Matt's men, who were engaging with three Demons.

By the time the cops were on their way, the death squad only had two Demons left, and Frank and Jody had them down on their knees, with Demon knives to their throats.

"Where's your boss?" Frank barked. He grabbed his guy by the hair and yanked his head back, pressing the knife closer to his throat.

The Demon looked uneasily at the TV cameras. Normally, he would have just smoked out by now. But Lucifer had warned them all not to call undue attention to themselves by showing their otherworldly powers to anyone. Well, no one left alive, anyway. Which this particular Demon had thought to be rather strange. They were roaming all over the world, pillaging towns and raping and killing people, but they weren't supposed to call undue attention to themselves? What kind of sense did that even make? But he had seen what happened to any individual who had the chutzpah to question Lucifer, so he'd said nothing.

But Gail's brother and his wife were going to torture them and then kill the crap out of them if they didn't escape from these vessels, now. These Demons knew who the people that were menacing them were, of course. They were on Lucifer's list. If only they had been able to kill these two, especially the man. That would have been a real blow to the heart of the God Squad. But now the shoe was on the other foot, and the Demons no longer had a choice. One of them popped out from underneath Jody and went back to Crowley's domain, and the one Frank was holding opened up his mouth and released the black smoke. As the news crews recorded the event, shocked to the core, the Demon's essence entered Keith, one of Matt's cop friends.

Keith looked at Matt with black eyes. "You'd better stop, right now. There is no defeating Lucifer. You're just gonna end up dead, and if he's in a particularly cranky mood that day, that'll only be the beginning. Give it up, Matt. You can't win."

"We'll never give up," Matt said in a quiet voice. This was unbelievable. Keith was one of his best friends. Matt looked at Frank. "Is there any way to get that thing out of him?"

Frank frowned. "Yeah, there is, but it involves a ritual and a bunch of Latin, and I don't know all the Latin off by heart." Dammit. Sam and Dean would know it, or Cas, of course. But poor Keith had the wrong group here.

Matt took a deep breath. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to kill him," he stated.

"What are you talking about?" another member of Matt's group said angrily. "Kill Keith?"

"He's not Keith any more, Rick," Matt shot back. "He's Lucifer's now."

"Yeah, I am," the Demon wearing Keith said, "and he's the Master. Give it up, you guys. You can't win," he repeated.

"No," Matt said curtly.

Keith shrugged. "Hey, it's your funeral. And I mean that literally. Better make sure your Will's up to date, Rick. Isn't your wife cooking up another kid? Oh well, she'll be all right after you're dead. She's smokin' hot. Keith always wanted to do her. Maybe he'll get his chance."

Rick stepped forward as if he were going to attack Keith, but the Demon possessing Keith raised his arm and blasted Rick across the park, into some bushes. "I'll tell the Boss you'll all be seeing him, real soon," the Demon said. Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

The cameramen stopped filming, lowering their cameras slowly. "That in the holy hell was that?" one of them asked aloud in a hushed voice.

"Exactly," Frank quipped. He sighed. "OK, I just made an executive decision. Hope my brother-in-law doesn't get too mad at me. Come on, Matty. Time for your second 15 minutes of fame."

They walked over to the news crew. "We've got a message from Heaven," Frank told the reporter. "You'll want to have your cameras going for this."

"What was that we just saw?" the reporter asked him, open-mouthed.

"Switch that camera and that microphone on, and we'll tell you," Matt said.

Once the camera was on, Frank looked into the lens and said, "We have a message for Lucifer. Obviously, he didn't get it the first time." He looked at his new friend. "Ready, Matty?"

"Ready, Frank," Matt said, grinning.

Both men looked at the camera and then raised their arms simultaneously. Their middle fingers popped up. "Screw you, Lucifer," Frank said gleefully. "You're gonna lose."

"Who are you guys?" the reporter asked. "And how can you explain what we just saw?"

"Simple," Frank said. "The Devil has decided that he wants to send his - what did you call them, Matty?"

"Death douchebags," Matt said proudly.

"Death douchebags," Frank repeated, speaking into the reporter's microphone. "I love that. Anyway, he's sending these douchebags here to do his dirty work."

"So, let me get this straight," the TV reporter said incredulously. "You're telling us that the pockets of murders we've seen in different parts of the globe have been ordered by Satan?"

"That's exactly what we're telling you," Matt confirmed. "And you just saw the evidence for yourself. We're on a mission from God to fight back, to tell Lucifer we're not gonna put up with this crap anymore."

Aw, hell, Frank thought. Matty probably shouldn't have said that. Not that he was wrong, but Cas might not like that part about being on a mission from God. "I think my buddy here has probably watched those Blues Brothers movies once too often," Frank said, trying to do some damage control. "But all we're trying to say is that people need to stand up and fight these guys. Like you just saw, not all of them are human, so to be honest, some of you will probably die. But, there are millions of people on this planet. If we all band together, we can send Lucifer a pretty strong message. What kind of a world do we want for our kids? My wife and I have a son that we haven't seen in months, because we're out here, fighting for his future."

"Yeah, and my friends and I decided to join them, because we believe in the same thing," Matt added. "So come on, people. If we get together, like Frank says, we can do this. I'm in, full time. What about you guys?" he asked Rick, and his three other friends.

Rick thought about that. What Frank had said really resonated with him. He had two kids already, and he and his wife had another one on the way. He didn't want them to live in a world where things like this were allowed to happen. "We're with you, Matty," he said, and the other men nodded.

"Good," Matt said. "We're gonna stand up and fight with the Angels, and all of you people out there need to do the same."

Frank winced. His buddy Matt needed to rein himself in a little bit. They did want people to rise up and fight back, but that wouldn't happen if people dismissed them as religious nutjobs.

Sure enough, the reporter began to smile. "Angels? Demons? Missions from God?" he asked them, a touch of skepticism in his voice now.

Frank started to do the slow burn. "How else do you explain what you just saw?"

"I don't know. A prank, maybe?" the TV guy said.

Tommy lost it, then. "A prank?" he yelled. "A prank? Do you want to come over here and check for this guy's vitals and then tell me that this is a prank?" He indicated the human he'd shot.

By now, the police began crawling all over the park, and they were already telling Jody and Kevin that their group would all have to come down to the station and answer some questions. Frank frowned. Kevin had always been able to wink them away from these types of situations before the authorities arrived, but they had stayed too long this time. There was no way that they could allow themselves to be taken to the cop shop, though. Not only would they be out of commission for who knew how long, but they could very well be placed under arrest for multiple homicides. The cops only had their word for it that they were the good guys. All the police had were a bunch of dead bodies, and a bunch of people standing over them with weapons in their hands, and blood all over their clothes. Double crap.

"Hey, Kevin, can you call our boss to come here, immediately?" Frank said, edging slowly over to Kevin. Jody and Tommy got what he was doing, and they started to follow suit. "Matty, gather your guys around you, quick," Frank said in a soft voice.

Kevin put through the emergency call, and a moment later, Cas showed up, covered in blood, a Demon blade in his hand. He had been just about to ask Frank what the emergency was, that he was in the middle of his own battle, but he saw all of the police officers surrounding them and immediately understood.

"I think my new friend Matt and his buddies over there could use a lift," Frank said to Cas, nodding over towards Matt's group.

Cas looked at Kevin. "Where to?" he asked, walking swiftly over to Matt.

Kevin thought quickly. "Headquarters," he said vaguely. Cas nodded briefly. He and Kevin winked their groups to the field behind the bunker.

"Holy crap," Matt breathed. He stumbled a bit, and Cas reached out to steady him.

"What's going on, Frank?" Cas said sharply. "I was in the middle of my own battle when you called."

Frank's heart sank. "I'm sorry, Cas. It was the only way I could think of to get both of our groups out of there. Plus, I wanted to talk to you about what happened back there."

"Well, I'm going to have to get back - " Cas started to say, but he was still looking at Matt. "You look familiar to me. Why?"

Matt was much bigger than Cas, but strangely, he felt intimidated by him. This was the badass killer he remembered from the plane, and the guy was covered in blood, and holding a knife in his hand. He didn't look too happy about having been called here, either.

Frank saw the expression on Matt's face. He would have to make it a point to be amused by this later on. But for now, he reminded Cas of who Matt was, and what his group was doing here.

Cas frowned. "I thought when we got the Demon knives for these men, there were six."

Frank told him about Keith having been possessed by a Demon, and what It had said.

"Does that mean Keith is dead?" Rick piped up. The bloody friend of Frank's kind of scared him too, but Keith was his best friend.

"Yes," Castiel said bluntly. "The next time you see him, you must kill him." He thought for a second. "Or, better still, let Frank and Jody bind him, and interrogate him for Lucifer's location."

Rick was astonished. "But, aren't you and the young one there Angels?" He nodded towards Kevin. "Can't you just exorcise him, or something?"

Cas let out a breath. He was really trying to be patient here, but he didn't have that kind of time right now. "I don't have time for this," he said, tight-lipped. He looked at Frank. "These men are your responsibility," he said to his brother-in-law. "I will take them back to Michigan, and then I will have to go." He looked at Matt. "You men will need to decide if you are truly prepared for the risks involved." He looked at Kevin then, giving him the name of a town due west of Flint. Then he winked Matt's group there without another word, and then he was gone.

"Sorry about that," Frank said to Matt when they got back to Michigan. Dammit. He'd really been hoping there would be a way for them to pop into the bunker for a minute or two to see Robbie. He and Jody and Tommy had all talked about how much they missed the boy, and of course, Tommy missed Barry just as much, if not more. But when Frank had seen Cas in that state, he'd known better than to even suggest it. This wasn't a vacation they were on. They had to stick with the program.

Still, with Matt and his friends on board, it was time to move on now. If Lucifer's groups stayed true to form, the death squads would resume their killings in the next town due north, which would be Saginaw. They were just west of there now, so it would be a piece of cake for Kevin to pop them over there in two groups, or even three, if he needed. Frank had known that Kevin wouldn't be able to take them all at once; that was why he had called for Cas. Maybe he had better lay off calling Cas for a while, though; his brother-in-law obviously had his own hands full. But it had been for a good cause. Frank's squad had doubled in number now, and hopefully, if word got out once the news was broadcast, more people would take up arms and fight Lucifer's assassins. This could be just the break they'd been looking for.

A few weeks later, Gail and her squad were walking down the street in a quaint little town in Hungary when a group of young men passed them on the sidewalk, excitedly chattering away in their own language. Gail didn't know what they were saying, of course, but she gaped at the T-shirts they were wearing.

She stopped short, putting her hand on the arm of one of the young men. "Do you speak English?" she asked him. "Can I look at your shirt? Where did you get it?"

It was unclear how much of what she'd said the young man understood, but he smiled and puffed out his chest proudly, saying, "Screw you, Lucifer."

"Holy crap!" Dean exclaimed. On the young man's T-shirt was a screen shot of Frank and Matt from the news broadcast, with their middle fingers raised.

One of the other young men grinned. "CNN," he said. "Americans." He and his friends nodded to Gail's group, then continued on down the sidewalk.

Gail wheeled on Bobby and the Winchesters, open-mouthed. "Did you see that? My brother's on a T-shirt? What the hell, you guys?"

"Not only that, but he's on a T-shirt, giving Lucifer the finger," Sam pointed out. "I don't think I've ever been prouder to call him my friend."

"We need to find a TV," Gail said. "We'd better find out what's been going on that we don't know about."

They walked into a bar that they found on the next block. It was early afternoon, so the place was quiet. Fortunately, the bartender spoke some English and the bar had a satellite dish, so when they asked, he turned on CNN for them. After a few minutes of commercials, the anchorman came on, reporting on the grassroots movement that had started in America, but was now spreading all over the world. "People are taking up arms and fighting the so-called death squads that have been roaming around all over the world. It all started when these two men appeared on a local Michigan newscast, uttering the phrase that has caught on with so many people, all over the world: "'Screw you, Lucifer'." A picture of Frank and Matt came up behind him, identical to the one on the young Hungarian's T-shirt, except for the fact that their hands were pixillated on TV.

They cut to a female co-anchor, who was smiling. "That's right, Jim. These two men have sparked a revolution, of sorts. We now have footage from Algeria, showing local farmers using various types of what appear to be farm implements to fight off a dozen or so men who attacked their town and attempted to set fire to their church."

"Do we have that footage?" Jim asked. Then he nodded. "What you are about to see is very graphic, but we felt it was important to show you what is happening in different parts of the globe. What Anne was saying about a revolution appears to be true, and it seems to be crossing racial lines, as well."

They began to run the footage, and Gail gasped loudly. As soon as they had mentioned Algeria, she had been hoping, of course. The video showed Cas, Ethan, Becky and Riley engaged in a fight with a death squad. Then, suddenly, a group of black men entered the fray, carrying pitchforks, knives, and other farm tools. One woman in a housedress joined them, somewhat amusingly carrying a large iron skillet. She swung it like a major league batter, smashing one man in the face. A Demon was raising his Angel blade to stab Riley in the back while the young Angel's back was turned, and the woman with the frying pan swung again, knocking the knife out of the Demon's hand. He wheeled on her angrily, grabbing her by the neck, but Riley stabbed him then, and his vessel crumpled to the ground. Riley and the woman gave each other a quick smile, and then they ran off to join the fight again.

"Way to go, young Riley," Bobby said softly.

"Wow, look at Becky go," Dean remarked with admiration. He elbowed Sam in the ribs. "You may want to rethink your position on her, Sammy."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said, but he was smiling.

It did Gail's heart good to see the young Angels defending themselves so well, and also to hear Bobby and the Winchesters talking like that. Almost as if things were normal. She couldn't remember the last time there had been any semblance of banter between them.

Then Cas came on the screen, and her heart leaped. He was fighting fiercely, engaging with several enemies at once. A farmer was trying to help him, wielding a pitchfork, stabbing enemies with it. He'd already gotten two humans in that manner, and they were laying on the ground, bleeding out. Then the farmer stuck a Demon, and the look of surprise on the farmer's face when It didn't go down was so comical that Cas smiled briefly.

Gail choked back a sob, and Sam grabbed her hand. She gave him a grateful squeeze, but she couldn't look at him because she couldn't take her eyes off the screen. She felt so many emotions right now. First and foremost was love for her husband, of course. She was so very proud of him. It looked like Becky and Riley were extremely capable fighters now, and even though Ethan had always been competent, his skills had been taken to the next level, considering what she was seeing on the video.

But she also felt sad as she watched them all, fighting and killing. Hadn't it been just yesterday when they'd all sat around her and Cas's house enjoying a sumptuous Christmas feast, singing Let There Be Peace On Earth? Or had it been years ago? She had no idea any more.

There was a spark of hope, though, and it came in the form of those T-shirts, and the reporters, stating that similar uprisings were taking place in different parts of the globe. It appeared as though Lucifer was having to deploy more and more of his followers in order to keep up with the increasing number of human rebels. Surely he would run out of minions soon; how many more could he have?

Gail put her fingers to her lips and blew the TV a kiss. Too bad she didn't have the power to ensure that Cas felt it, at the other end.

Dean saw her do that, and his eyes misted over. He and Gail had had their dust-ups, but after they'd seen Cas on Mother's Day, Dean had taken great pains to show Gail a little more compassion. And she, in turn, had made the effort to be less combative with him. Fighting with Dean was almost like fighting with herself. They both missed Cas and the way things had been at Christmastime so much that it made no sense for them to fight.

"Hey, boss. How about I buy you a drink?" Dean said to her now. "Just one, to celebrate. It's not every day your brother and your husband are both on TV."

The video had ended, so Gail turned to look at him. "Jealous, Dean?" she joked, and he grinned. "Well, I am better-looking than those bozos," Dean said, smirking. "So, what do you say, Gail? One shot each?"

Gail thought for a moment, then she shrugged. What the hell. "Sure, Dean. Line 'em up. Mrs. Bozo is thirsty."

As a rejoinder, it was decidedly lame, but they all laughed as if it was the funniest thing they'd heard in a long time, because of course, it was.

They all downed their shots when they came, with a lively toast of "Screw you, Lucifer!" And when they left the bar, one additional shot later, they were linked arm-in-arm, still grinning.

VIGNETTE - UNDERCOVER OF THE NIGHT

Lucifer was enraged. He had popped over to Madison, Wisconsin, to check in with Jason. When the Demon that had inhabited Keith's vessel had come back to the compound and informed Lucifer that he hadn't seen Jason in months, his boss was irate. He knew that Jason liked to flit around the Earth, treating the human race like his own personal buffet, and that was fine, as long as he remembered who the Alpha of the Alphas was. Clearly, Jason had forgotten, or he'd thought that Lucifer wouldn't find out.

In any case, Lucifer was pissed. He'd found out about the campaign, and the T-shirts, too. A few returnees had filled him in on what was happening out there in the field. One of the Demons that Cas had nearly killed related the account of the farmers joining Cas's Angelic Squad. He'd thought it was pretty funny, until the guy with the pitchfork had skewered him. That wouldn't have killed him, of course, but it was enough to hold him in place until Castiel came along and slashed the crap out of him. Then, he'd smoked out, in order to be able to survive.

Then, another Demon who had been attacked by Matt reported to Lucifer that there were T-shirts he'd seen people wearing with Frank's and Matt's pictures on them, giving Lucifer both barrels.

Lucifer was astonished. Who the hell did those guys think they were? What about the bounty on everyone's heads? "Well, I want you to go back there and tell Jason to rip all their throats out. And he can start with Gail's brother."

But that was when the Demon had advised that Jason wasn't with the group, and he hadn't been since nearly the very beginning of the campaign. And he had also said that the numbers of their kills were diminishing significantly. Not only were the human sacrifices way down, but more and more of their own number were being killed, meaning that they'd been having to replenish the squads at an ever=increasing rate. And not all of the Demons were coming back to Lucifer for reassignment, either. An increasing number were going back to Crowley, as were many of the humans that were dying in battle. If they didn't do something soon, the momentum might shift to Castiel's side.

Lucifer was fuming. He'd sent six Demons and four humans to Michigan, but Frank's core group now had twenty-five members, and the numbers of the opposition were increasing in other parts of the world, as well. At last report, Gail's group had a couple dozen, and Castiel had an entire flock of dirt-poor Africans following him around like he was Moses in the freaking desert, or something. If things were allowed to continue on this way, Lucifer was about two or three battles away from having to write his concession speech.

He was pacing back and forth in front of his followers in Wisconsin now, sort of like a General inspecting his troops. "I need a better strategy," he was musing aloud. "Their numbers need to go down, and fast. Castiel's about two steps from making manna rain down from Heaven in Africa, Gail's leading the French Resistance in Europe, and Frank is giving me the finger, at a retailer near you."

A Demon stepped forward hesitantly. "If I might make a suggestion, Sir?"  
Lucifer looked at him. "Yeah, what the hell. And you are...?"

"Rory," the Demon introduced himself. "I worked in Marketing when I was alive, and I had one of the hardest jobs in the world. We had to sell tobacco products, despite the political climate, and all those pesky health warnings. It's pretty hard to grow the bottom line when all of your existing customers are dropping dead from cancer, and your potential new customers are being taught from the cradle that smoking is disgusting, and bad for you."

"So, what's your point?" Lucifer snarled. He was in no mood for a sales seminar.

Rory continued. "My point is, that you have to fight the battles you can win. So every time one of those whiners would try to sue us, using some sob story about losing half of their bodily organs to the evils of smoking, we would put the weight of our entire legal team into our defense. Tie the case up in so much litigation that the Plaintiff was either dead, or dead broke, before the case could even see the light of day."

"You're going to be that first thing, if you don't get to the point in about two more seconds," Lucifer said menacingly. "What is your suggestion?"

"A full-scale attack on the humans, on a much larger scale," Rory replied. "I happen to know of half a dozen extremely lethal chemicals that would do an extremely fine job, and I know where they can be obtained. I know you want the Angels, but if you can kill all of their humans in large numbers, the rebellion will die a quick death."

Lucifer was impressed. "Not bad," he told Rory. "Not bad at all. Come on, let's talk."

Gail was standing at the railing of the loading dock, serving as the lookout. She hadn't argued, for once. They had a couple of dozen individuals on their team now, and most of them were big, strapping men. Now that their numbers had grown, they had "borrowed" several pickup trucks, plus a van, from a local dealership, using Sam and Dean's B&E skills. Now they were inside the munitions factory, and she was outside with an automatic weapon and a walkie-talkie. The men were loading up the trucks with guns, bullets and grenades, as quickly and quietly as they could. It was night-time, of course. Due to the nature of the products that the place manufactured, there had been armed guards posted around the perimeter of the building, but Gail had popped around and incapacitated them using the two-finger system, and then she had popped inside the building and done the same to the night guards who were there. Then Sam had disabled the alarms, both from inside and outside the building. The men had come in and formed a human chain to load the trucks. Gail had popped herself back outside to act as lookout, because the men had things well in hand. She didn't think she would be strong enough to lift those boxes anyway, and if she saw a death squad coming, she could pop into the building, transporting half a dozen men at a time.

She was lost in thought now. Ever since the Screw Lucifer movement had begun, she had been monitoring the news every day, to see what progress was being made. She was also hoping to catch a glimpse of any one of their loved ones, but most especially, she was hoping to see Cas again. Now that they were both in charge of, and ultimately responsible for, ever-growing groups of humans, they seldom had the chance to talk any more.

They had had a brief conversation a couple of days ago, though, and she was reviewing it now in her mind, over and over, as someone might take out an old photograph and study it. They never had gotten those pictures taken in Las Vegas; they hadn't had time. How she wished they had. Now, she only had his face in her imagination. Why hadn't she paid closer attention to the curves and angles of his cheeks, and jawline? Exactly which shade of blue were his eyes, anyway? How many times had she gazed into those eyes? And yet, she had no idea. How could that be? She pictured his mouth, and his lips. Was he unshaven? Probably. He'd been in some of the poorest countries in Africa, so she doubted he and his group were exactly making grooming a priority.

When they'd had their conversation, she had asked him about that.

"I'm way beyond the point of stubble, now," Cas had told her. "Actually, I have quite the beard growing. A little less than in Egypt, but a little more than I know you would like." He was trying to keep his tone light, if only for the moment. "It's much beardier than when I was the Sheikh. Wait: is that a word?"

Gail laughed, then matched his tone. "I've heard news reports that suggest you're like Moses, wandering around the desert with a robe and staff, with a flock of people trailing behind you."

Cas smiled thinly. "The reports are mainly false or exaggerated. I'm not dressed in robes, although I should be, in this kind of heat. And Moses didn't have a beard, contrary to what that movie suggested." His smile faded. "There ARE quite a few followers now, though. They're trying to call me the Saviour, or the Messiah. But I told them that I was neither, and to cut it out. They're like my sheep used to be, in the olden times. But I don't mean that in a derogatory way, Gail. I only mean that they are very simple, perhaps naive, people, who are just trying to do their best with what little they have. Yet they were willing to drop everything and join with us, to do what is right. I wonder how many millionaires or Heads of State would do the same."

There was a glum pause, and then Cas went on, "So how are things going for you? How does it feel, being a female General, in charge of all those men?"

"Pretty much the same as it does at home," she quipped. "You guys always do what I say, anyway. Now, I just have a bigger sampling."

Cas gave a short laugh, and then he said, "It's tough being responsible for all of those people, isn't it?"

Gail sighed. "It sure is. I'm not really cut out to be a leader, Cas, at least not like this. I can pretend to boss people around at the bunker, but when lives are on the line, it's very different, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," Cas agreed. "When we do get back together, we'll definitely have even more in common, going forward."

She didn't ask him how long he thought that would be; not any more. She knew better than that by now. Still, their teams were growing in number now, and the Movement was gaining momentum. But then, Cas said something that chilled her to the bone.

"I need you to be very vigilant, Gail. In the last group we encountered, one of the Demons I dispatched was taunting us about humans dying on a much grander scale. I asked him what he meant, implying that I would let him live if he told me. He went on to say that Lucifer has chemical weapons at his disposal now, and that he'd tested them out in the States. So I called Kevin, and sure enough, the bomb was released in a town due west of Frank's team's location. If they'd gotten there a little sooner, they would all be dead now. But, as it was, every person within a six-block radius of the centre of the bomb's deployment died, and horribly."

"But Frank and Jody, and Tommy and Kevin are all right, aren't they?" she asked him immediately.

"Yes, they're fine," Cas answered. "I would have told you right away if anything had happened to any one of them, Gail."

She sighed again. "I'm sorry, Cas. I know you would have. I'm just so worried all the time, about all of you."

"And I worry about everyone, too," he said. "But especially, about you. How are you, Gail, really?"

"Not so great," she answered honestly. "But, a little better, now that the momentum seems to be shifting. I have hope, for the first time in a long time. But what are we going to do about the chemical attacks?"

Cas frowned. "I've asked my team to fashion crude gas masks, just in case. But I'm not sure if that'll be good enough. From what I hear, there's a loud, booming sound right before the deadly powder is released. Hopefully, that'll be enough of a warning. We Angels have even got gas masks ready to use, if need be. I'm uncertain as to what the chemical bombs would do to our vessels, since they have the capability to kill humans. Better safe than sorry. Is there anywhere there that you can procure some gas masks?"

She smiled wryly. "Funny you should ask. We're going to be doing a midnight raid on a munitions plant soon. Sam and a few of the other guys are doing a recon over there right now, in fact. We'll have to add gas masks to the shopping list. What about Frank?"

"He told Kevin to tell me that Tommy might know of a secret military base near them that they could liberate some from," Cas had replied, and Gail had breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she and Cas had said their "I love you's" and disconnected to go and check on their respective teams.

So now, Gail was standing outside, looking right and left, but all was quiet for the moment. She risked a quick call on the walkie-talkie.

"Dean, it's me," she said quietly.

"I figured that," his voice came back. "Who else would it be? Everything OK out there?"

"First of all, yes," she replied, "and second, nobody likes a smartass. How's it coming there? Will you guys be done soon?"

"Yeah, yeah. Keep your wings on," he said grumpily, but she smiled, knowing he wasn't angry.

"Were you able to find any gas masks?" she asked him.

"Yeah, hold on, I'm coming," Dean said to someone off in the distance. "We could only find one box of four."

"You've got to be kidding me," Gail moaned.

"Nope. I thought it was kind of stupid, too. But we're not gonna waste time looking for any more. We've gotta get the hell out of here, before we're busted."

"OK, Dean. Gail out," she said absently, thumbing the button on her walkie to sign off. She was thinking furiously now. She had two dozen men on her squad, besides, Dean, Sam, and Bobby. Maybe she should call Kevin after this and find out if they'd had any success in getting some. And how about Cas and his people? Home-made gas masks didn't sound like they would be very effective to her. Then again, those farmers had shown themselves to be very resourceful. Who would have ever thought that they could enter into a fight with Demons armed only with pitchforks and a frying pan and emerge from the conflict unscathed? Of course, her friends and especially her husband had had a lot to do with that, too, she thought warmly.

She continued to look up and down the alleyway. They were in an industrial area in the middle of the night, and all she saw were the loading docks of other buildings, and a few dumpsters. The quiet was eerie, really. She wished those guys would hurry up.

Suddenly, there was a loud BOOM!, and Gail jumped. Then she saw streams of white powder cascading from the exhaust pipes located by the loading bays. Now, she could hear the gunfire from automatic weapons off in the distance, coming closer.

Oh, crap. Was that white powder poisonous to her? Who the hell knew? She yelled into the walkie: "Dean! You and Sam and Bobby get those gas masks on, immediately! Then, get your weapons ready! They're coming!" She yanked open the door that led into the building, then got her blade out of her pocket and spoke to it, lighting it up. She looked around wildly. She'd seen that there was a big gap underneath the door she'd just come through. Could the poisonous gas affect her? Cas had said he wasn't sure. She'd better not wait around to find out. There was another door off to her right. She tried it, and fortunately, it was unlocked, so she hurried inside. She found herself in a small supply closet. There was a jacket hanging on a hook on the back of the door, and she grabbed it and stuffed it into the crack underneath the door. There. That would have to be good enough.

She locked the door and went to the far side of the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. She turned off the walkie and extinguished the light. If the death squad came here first, she couldn't risk discovery. Lucifer had been doubling and tripling the numbers for the death squads, and there was no way she would stand a chance, even with her powers. She thought about just popping out of there, but where would she go? It was much too dangerous to just go popping around blind. That was one of the first lessons that Cas had taught her as an Angel. If she went back outside, she might be poisoned by Lucifer's lethal cocktail. Oh, God. She only hoped that her friends had put on their gas masks immediately, as she'd directed. But what about the other men in their squad, then?

Gail was an intelligent woman, but her brain just shut down at this point. She'd been out here for months, fighting and killing, constantly vigilant, terrified for her family and friends, and now she was supposed to be in charge of a group of humans who were trusting her to make the right decisions that would keep them all alive. Yet she had probably just sealed all of their death warrants by telling Dean and Sam and Bobby to don the gas masks. They'd only had the four. She should have made sure they all had gas masks before they'd come here. How could she have made such a huge mistake? She had just killed them all. And now, she was making it worse by being selfish, and praying that her own guys had survived. Wow. Crowley had better prepare an Executive Suite for her arrival.

The knob on the door rattled, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from crying out in terror. Luckily, the lock held. Would they break the door down?

A muffled voice from the other side: "This door's locked. Should I shoot it?"

"Don't bother," another muffled voice replied. "She's probably popped her buddies out of here already. Let's go. This stupid gas mask is suffocating me. We accomplished what we set out to do. Bunch of dead humans. Let's get those black-eyed bastards to take us to the next town for some drinks, in celebration."

"Sounds good to me," the first man said, and she heard footsteps, presumably leading away. But it could be a trick. She sat there in the dark and the silence, wondering what to do now. This was starting to remind her of the time that she and Frank hid in the crawlspace of their basement, wondering if it was safe to go upstairs, the day their parents were murdered. Frank's parents, she amended to herself. Back then, Frank was the one to make the decisions. She'd been just a child. But no one was here to make the decisions for her now. She was supposed to be the leader of her squad, and she was cowering here like a frightened ten-year-old.

She thumbed the walkie on. "Dean, do you copy?" she said softly.

"Gail! Thank God! Holy crap!" he yelled back. She winced, turning the volume down. Hopefully, those guys had gone for that drink, or she'd be toast. "Where are you?" Dean asked her.

"Never mind that, where are you guys? Are you OK?" she said anxiously.

"Yeah, we're OK," he confirmed. "We put the gas masks on, and then we shot and stabbed our way out of there. But we had to bail, Gail. Our other squad members were dropping like flies, and we were so outnumbered it wasn't even funny. If they'd just had knives, we might have tried to gut it out, but they all had automatic weapons. So I shoved the other gas masks on Sam and Bobby and the nearest guy to me, and we jumped in one of the trucks and booked it out of there. I'm sorry, Gail. We had to get out of there quick, or we were all gonna die. I didn't want to leave without knowing where you were, but Bobby yelled that you were an Angel, and there wasn't time." He paused. "Thank God you're OK. Cas woulda killed me. Now, we just have to figure out where we are, so you can pop over here. That's how that works, right?"

She smiled with relief that they were all right. "Yes, that's how that works, Dean."

Dean asked Sam, who advised the name of the next town where they were, and the cross streets. "Did you get that?" he asked Gail.

She told him she did, but when she tried to wink out of there, she couldn't. Then she tried again. Nope. No way. "Dean, there's something wrong," she told him. "I can't do it." She tried once more. Still nothing.

"Well, we'll just have to come back for you, then," Dean said. "Where are you?"

"NO!" she shouted, alarmed. Then she lowered her voice: "No, you can't, Dean. It's probably still toxic outside, and we don't know where those guys are, either. They said there were a whole bunch of dead humans here. You just stay put."

They were silent for a moment. What the hell were they going to do now? She couldn't come there, and they couldn't come here. And she didn't dare try to walk out of here under her own, not without knowing for sure where the death squad was, or whether all the white powder she'd seen would damage her.

"Tell you what," Dean said brightly. "I'll call Tommy on the cell phone he's not supposed to have, on the cell phone that I'm not supposed to have. Then, he can get Kevin to call Cas on your guys's Radio, and see if he can come and get you. How would you like that?"

She thought about that for a moment. Would she be a big baby if she admitted to Dean that she was scared, and she really wanted Cas to come? No, forget that: she needed Cas to come. "OK, Dean," she said, giving in. "But please tell him to come where you are first, and borrow one of your gas masks. He says they've got some kind of home-made ones over there, but I don't trust that."

Dean flashed a brief smile. "OK, Gail. Sit tight. Help is on the way."

Cas popped over to where the Winchesters and Bobby and Nathan were. Nathan was the guy that Dean had grabbed. He'd simply had the good fortune to have been standing next to Dean on the line when all hell had broken loose. Cas looked at Dean warily, and then he shrugged. Who were they kidding? The time for hiding the fact that some of them were Angels had long passed. This was wartime.

"What happened, Dean?" Cas asked his friend anxiously. "Where is she?"

"Didn't Kevin tell you?" Dean said.

"No, he just told me to come here immediately, that Gail was trapped somewhere. Where is she, Dean?" Cas repeated, agitated.

Before anyone could say anything else, Nathan yelled, "Black eyes!" He pointed behind Cas, and Cas whirled around. Then he relaxed.

"How is everybody? OK?" Paul said.

"Yeah, we're OK, Paul," Sam confirmed.

"Where's my little Boo?" Paul asked them, looking around.

"Your - " Cas started to say, and then he realized that Paul was talking about Gail. He frowned slightly. "She's back in the town they just left," he said, indicating the four humans. "I was just going to get her."

"I'll go with," Paul advised Cas.

"Why?" Cas said.

Paul sighed. He'd known Castiel wouldn't be too happy. "Because I'm not sure if my squad have all cleared out yet. Then we need to have a talk."

"What the hell?!" Nathan exclaimed. "Why are you being so friendly with this guy? Isn't he a Demon? Black eyes!"

"Oh, thank God," Sam quipped. "I thought you said 'black guy'. I thought we were going to have to kick you off our team for being a racist."

Dean did a double-take, and then he grinned. That was the best joke he'd heard Sam make in a long, long time. It was really a shame that neither Frank nor Gail had been here to hear it.

Paul had, though, and he shook his head, smirking. "You flannel-shirted bastards," he said. "I've missed you." He looked at Cas. "I even missed you, Castiel. That's one hell of a beard you've got going, by the way. Come on, now. We've gotta go get our girl."

Cas frowned again, but he allowed Paul to take his arm, and they winked out.

The Angel and the Demon appeared on the loading dock. Gail had described where she was now in relation to where Dean knew she had been.

Neither of the men wore a gas mask. Paul had advised Cas that the toxic gas had no adverse effect on otherworldly beings. Apparently, Lucifer's numbers were becoming so depleted that he'd been worried about his Demons being harmed by the chemicals, so when the Devil's evil scientist had put together the formula for the first bomb, Lucifer had tested it out on a couple of Demons, as well as a couple of hapless humans, and discovered that it hadn't seemed to bother the Demons.

So that was something, anyway. Unfortunately, that didn't help the couple of dozen dead guys who were strewn around the floor in the factory by the open bay doors, Paul said.

Cas yanked the door open, and he and Paul stood regarding the door to the supply closet. "Sigil, and a powerful one, too," Cas remarked, squinting at the symbol that was drawn on the door there. He closed his eyes and tried to wink himself inside, but he couldn't do it. Lucifer must have given this symbol to his teams to use in case they were able to trap one of the Angels with it. He theorized this to Paul now, and Paul agreed. Obviously, most of the men who had gone out on Lucifer's behalf had been too stupid or uneducated to realize what a powerful symbol he'd given to them. It was unclear what they'd hoped to accomplish by painting it here. From what Cas had understood, the men hadn't even known that Gail was in there. Thank God.

Or was she? Cas banged on the door. "Gail? Are you in there?"

"Yes, I am, Cas," she replied.

"I can't come in; there's a very powerful sigil on the door," Cas told her.

So THAT was why she hadn't been able to wink herself out, Gail thought. In a way, she was relieved. At least there was a logical explanation.

"I'll come in and get you," Paul said. "The sigil is for Angels only." He glanced at Cas, then winked himself inside the supply room.

"Paul!" Gail exclaimed. She strode up to him and Paul started to smile, thinking that she was going to embrace him. But instead, she hit him in the chest, with both hands.

"Where have you been?!" she shouted. "They killed the crap out of my men! Why didn't you do something?"

Paul looked down at her calmly. He'd thought this might be her reaction. "OK, let me just get you out of here, and then, both you and Castiel can give it to me at once. I'm not having this same fight twice."

He tried to wink her out of the closet, but only Paul showed up where Cas was standing outside, waiting anxiously. "Wow, that symbol really means business," Paul said softly. Then he smirked. "We're all about to feel really stupid, here," Paul added. "You know you've been an otherworldly being too long when...maybe Jeff Foxworthy whould write a book about THAT."

"What are you babbling about?" Castiel asked him angrily. "We need to get her out of there!"

Paul leaned forward to speak through the door. "Tell you what, Gail. Why don't you just unlock the door, and walk on out?"

She shook her head slowly. She DID feel stupid, now. Sigils were designed to prevent Angels from using their powers. That was why neither she nor Cas had been able to pop in or out. But then, why couldn't she just walk out of here, the human way?

But as she approached the door, she stopped short. "Wait...what about the toxic gas?" she asked them.

"It only affects humans," Cas said through the door. "Please come out, Gail. I need to make sure you're all right."

That did it for her. She swept the jacket away from the door with her foot, unlocked the door, and threw it open. Her eyes lit up when she saw Cas, and she launched herself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, smiling the first genuine smile he'd felt on his face for far too long.

Cas came out of the embrace, studying her face. "Are you all right? Are you sure?" he asked her.

She let out a frustrated breath. No, she wasn't all right. Of course she wasn't all right. "How are Sam and Dean and Bobby?" she countered.

"They're fine, thanks to you," he told her. "Thanks to your warning, they were able to get out in time."

"And the others?" she asked him. But she already knew, and her fears were confirmed when Cas shook his head. Gail's heart sank, and tears sprang to her eyes. But she didn't want to cry now.

"I've gotta get back in a minute," Paul said nervously. "Lucifer already found out that Jason isn't with his group. All I need is for him to find out I'm not with mine. Let's go back to where those guys are. We'll talk for a minute, and then I'm gonna have to go."

They winked Gail to where the remnants of her squad were. Dean grabbed Gail away from Cas and hugged her fiercely. "I'm sorry, Gail," he said in a quiet voice. The guilt for leaving her behind had been burning in him.

"Listen, you can have your reunion in a minute, but I don't have much time to tell you what I've got to tell you," Paul said to the group. "Lucifer's numbers were dropping. That's why he had to come up with this way of killing more humans all at once. He knows about the T-shirt campaign, and he's really pissed about it." Paul grinned at Gail. "You'll have to congratulate your brother for that, Boo. That was a stroke of genius. Not to mention being funny as hell. Even some of my squad were laughing about it. Anyway, the object is to intimidate and demoralize the humans, to stop them from joining you. If he can get it down to manageable numbers again, the momentum will shift back his way."

"Aren't the ones that are smoking out just going back to him?" Bobby asked, frowning at Paul. It was so weird to be talking to this guy like an ally. Bobby remembered the brief battle he'd had with Paul when the latter had been in Lucifer's service. Bobby'd been an Angel at the time, but he'd been able to use his powers to knock Paul around a little, despite the fact that the place was covered in sigils. Curious. He'd meant to have that conversation with Cas, but there had been so much going on that he kept forgetting. And now, the point had been rendered moot.

Paul was shaking his head. "But that's just it. For every one he gets back, two or three are going back to Crowley. Word's spreading that the King is welcoming guys back with open arms. No punishments for the ones who defected to Lucifer in the first place. Lucifer's nuts. If we thought he was bad before, he's five times worse, now. He's liable to do anything."

"And what are you doing about it?" Gail said angrily. "You're supposed to be our ally, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," Paul agreed. "But I'm much more valuable to you if Lucifer thinks I'm still on his side. The minute I show him my hand, I'll be done, and so will any chance you have to get any inside information. Don't worry, little lady, I've been watching all of you. I'll give a hand when I can."

Gail glared at him. She knew he'd called her that on purpose. That had been Henri's nickname for her. Usually, she wouldn't have minded, but this time, she lost it. "Yeah?" she retorted. "Well, say hi to your friend Lucifer for me. Tell him I've got an Angel blade with his name on it." Then she stalked away from the group.

Cas was looking at Paul calmly. He was a seasoned veteran when it came to war, so Castiel realized that what Paul was saying was true. Paul was much more valuable to them as a double agent. "Have you got anything more to tell us, Paul?" Castiel asked him.

"No, Castiel," the Demon replied. "But I'll keep an eye out." He nodded over towards Gail, who was sitting on a park bench, away from where the men were standing. "Tell the missus I get it. I'll try to watch out for her as best I can. Oh, and Castiel? You can lead as many of my people around Africa as you want, but just make sure you don't put 'em on a boat to America. That's how all the trouble started in the first place." He smirked at his own joke, then tipped a small salute to the other men. And then, he was gone.

Cas walked over to where Gail was sitting. She was crying silently. He took her in his arms without a word, and she clung to him. "I can't do this anymore, Cas," she said, starting to sob. "I was so scared back there. I need you here, with me. Please don't go away again. Stay here with me. Please."

Cas's heart was breaking. She had been so brave for so long. And now, just when they'd thought that they were turning the tide, Gail's team had been wiped out. He understood the weight of the guilt she was feeling, and he also knew that it would do no good at the moment to tell her that those mens' deaths were not her fault. She wouldn't be ready to hear that right now. If the roles had been reversed, he wouldn't have wanted to hear it, either. But he didn't have the heart to tell her that he couldn't stay here with her. It was taking everything he had not to acquiesce, though. Just look at her. She needed him. He was a monster.

"Shhh," Cas said to his wife. "Shhhh. Don't cry. Of course I'll stay here with you."

Her body stiffened, and she pulled out of the embrace. "You will?" she said, sniffling.

"Yes, of course I will," Cas said softly, kissing her on the forehead. "You're my wife. I place you above all others."

As he had hoped, she frowned when he said that. They'd had this discussion before, and obviously, she remembered. "That was a rotten thing to say to me," Gail remarked, making a face. "Fine. Go back to Africa, then, and be Moses. See if I care."

He gave her a squeeze. "You don't mean that, my love. You care a great deal. I know you do."

Gail sighed. "What do you want from me, Cas?"

"I want what I've always wanted," he said in a quiet voice. "Your love. That's all I need."

"I'd aim higher, if I were you," she said wryly. "Aren't you, like, the new Jesus, or something?"

Cas smiled. Now she was trying to be humourous, and he appreciated the effort she was going to, considering how low he knew she was feeling. "Well, I don't know about that, exactly. But the locals have taken to calling me "Yissa'Yah', which loosely translates into 'Messiah'. It literally means 'he who comes in the name of Yah', Yah being our Father. So I guess I couldn't really argue with them there." Gail took his hand, and Cas's smile grew warmer. "I asked them not to call me Messiah, but they're doing it anyway, Gail. I guess I'm not helping my own cause any, though. I've given them some rain for their crops, and I've been healing their injuries." He leaned closer to her. "Some of them have taken pictures of me, and they have hung those pictures in their homes."

Gail burst out laughing. She couldn't help it. He was just too cute. A few minutes ago, she had been in a pit of despair, and now he had her laughing. Maybe he WAS Jesus. "Have you told the guys that?" she asked him, still smiling.

"I didn't see the need for them to know that," Cas said, looking innocent.

"You are the cutest person I have ever met," Gail said, touching his face. "No wonder they worship you. So do I."

"Don't say that, Gail," he said miserably. He put his hand on top of hers and held it there. "Just love me, please. That's all I want."

"Done, and done," she said pertly. "Though truthfully, I'm not really sold on the beard."

"Then I'll shave it off, immediately," he said quickly.

Gail shook her head. "No, leave it. You're already handsome enough. If you shave, they'll be opening up churches in your name." She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Whoops, that was probably a little blasphemous, considering."

Cas reached out and removed her hand from her mouth. "Maybe so, but it was also funny," he said to her. Then he kissed her on the lips. "I can't say when, but I promise you that this will end, my love," he told her. "And then, I will spend the rest of my existence trying to make it up to you, for the time we've had to be apart now."

"No, we're going to spend the rest of our existence forgetting that any of this ever happened," she said. Then she sighed. "Now, go. They need you there." And I need you here, she thought. But she didn't say that, of course. She'd had her little breakdown, and he had reminded her as gently as possible that she had taken him to task about putting her and her needs above everyone else's. So, this was what they meant when they used the expression about putting your money where your mouth was. She should have just kept her stupid yap shut in the first place.

Cas and Gail walked back to her group, hand in hand. Cas told the men he would check in as soon as he could, and then he popped out.

Gail sighed. "Let's go, you guys." They piled into the truck and headed to the next town.


	2. Waiting For A Miracle

Chapter 2 - Waiting For A Miracle

It was only a matter of time, Tommy thought. So far they'd been lucky. But it was only a matter of time before one or more of them was going to die.

He was laying in the middle of the parking lot beside Frank, and both men were injured. Kevin was healing Tommy first, because his wounds were more serious. Frank was gritting his teeth, waiting his turn as patiently as possible.

It was early fall now, and the weather had been very humid all day. Now, they were in the eye of a thunderstorm, and the air was quiet and still. Frank wished Kevin would hurry it along a little. The way the clouds were gathering suggested to him that they were all going to be drenched in about fifteen minutes.

Another loud boom of thunder sounded overhead, making them all jump.

"Man, I hate thunderstorms," Matt moaned.

"What, a big, strapping guy like you?" Jody teased him.

"Hey, at least wait till I die before you go flirting with other men," Frank joked. Jody took his hand, smiling.

Matt and his friends laughed. At first, they had been fairly disconcerted by Frank's sense of humour. Sometimes, the blacker things got, the darker his jokes got. But that was Frank's way of coping; it always had been.

"Tell you what," Matt said. "Why don't we go on ahead? That way, you can't accuse me of ogling your wife anymore."

"Even though he's totally doing that," Rick wisecracked, and they all laughed again.

"Sure, Matty. You just want to get inside before the rain ruins your hairstyle. You can admit that to us. We're your friends," Tommy said, lifting up his shirt so Kevin could get at his stomach wound.

"You know it," Matt said affably. "Fashion forward, that's my watchword. Why should you gay guys be the only ones who look good? See you down the road." He and Rick and their three other friends piled in the truck and started off.

A few minutes later, the wind started to pick up, and then the rain started to pelt down. Kevin was just finishing up with Frank. The quartet held their jackets over their heads and ran over to the doorway of the mall, standing under the overhang. It was really coming down now. The thunder cracked overhead, and they saw a bolt of lightning come down just outside the parking lot.

The storm raged for quite some time with no letup, and the four of them sat down on the ground, huddling together for warmth. The mall was closed and the doors were locked, and there was nowhere for them to go. Kevin's teeth were chattering, and he was apologizing for not being able to wink them inside. They'd had a rough day, and he'd been healing their team pretty much non-stop. And, earlier, they had come upon a bus full of schoolkids that the death squad had been at. The kids had been piled on top of each other and left for dead, but there were still quite a few underneath who were alive. Kevin had healed them all gently, one by one, talking to and comforting each little one as he did it. Frank had watched the young Angel with admiration. Kevin didn't get a lot of credit, but he never whined or complained, and he was always there for them.

Eventually, the thunderclaps eased off but the rain continued, and the humans began to doze. Kevin kept watch, but there was no one out in the storm, and the death squad had obviously moved on. The young Angel wondered when this madness was going to end. This must have been what it was like during World War II, or any of those wars, really. He'd seen old movies where a bunch of guys were in trenches they called foxholes, hunkering down like he and his group were doing now. Usually, a firefight would break out, and a sympathetic character would get shot. Then he would either die tragically, or his best buddy would die trying to get his friend to safety. In any case, the result had been sadness. Kevin spent every minute of every day worrying about stuff like that. They'd already lost his Mom; how devastating would it be to lose anyone else?

Kevin completely understood now how it felt to be in Cas's shoes. He was pretty sure he knew why Cas had sent him out here as the only Angel in his group. Cas had wanted Kevin to step up and show that he could be counted on. It was such a cliche, but this experience was making Kevin into a man.

Morning came, and the humans started to stir. The storm had stopped during the night, but Kevin hadn't had the heart to wake them. He knew that none of them ever slept very well. Frank, in particular. Gail's brother took his responsibility very seriously, and he often took longer watches so the others could get more rest. Frank and Kevin had had the chance to talk about a lot of things as they sat up at night, and they had bonded as a result. Kevin liked Gail's brother a lot more, now that he understood Frank better. He also worried about Frank. Underneath his tough, wisecracking facade, Frank felt things deeply, and there were lines in his face now that Kevin hadn't seen before.

Those lines were showing now, as Frank came fully awake. "Is it morning?" he asked Kevin. "Holy crap! Did I sleep through the night?"

"Pretty much," Kevin said, nodding. "You looked like you could use the rest."

But Frank was agitated now. He sprang to his feet. "Those guys have gone up ahead! We need to stick together, Kevin!"

Kevin was aware how seriously Frank took his responsibility for everyone, but he thought that their leader was overreacting a bit. "I know, Frank, but I'm sure they found someplace to hole up overnight, the same as we did. If we head out now, I'm sure we'll find each other."

Frank stood down a little. He took a deep breath. Kevin was right. Responsibility was one thing but being a Mother Hen was another. It drove Frank nuts when Cas was too overprotective. Matty and his guys were grown men, who had shown themselves to be fully capable.

They walked back to the truck and drove off to the next town. It was early in the morning, and the sun was out now. The air was fresh and cool. The storm must have moved this way last night from where Frank and his group had been because the road was still wet, but the sun was already drying up the puddles. It looked like the day was going to be beautiful, weather-wise. Gail would like it, Frank thought. Fall weather had always been her favourite. Great. Now he had made himself sad. Not only did he miss his sister, but the fact that it was fall again, already, only served to remind him of how damn long they'd been out here, fighting the Devil's minions.

They were rolling into town now, driving down the main drag. Another tiny little burg, it looked like. The death douchebags likely hadn't bothered to stop here, Frank thought. There must be all of fourty people living here. And a dog. Tommy was driving, with Kevin in the front seat. Frank was just leaning forward to tell Tommy his witticism when Tommy said, "Oh, crap. Holy crap." He stopped the truck and pointed down the street.

They all got out slowly, weapons at the ready. But it was too late. Their friends were laying in the street, dead. Kevin rushed from man to man, but none of them had any vital signs.

Frank looked down at the men, stunned. Gus, the hockey-loving family man. He and Kevin would argue about whose sport was better, hockey, or soccer. Gus would joke that once this b.s. was over, he would take Kevin to a Red Wings game, and then he'd be a convert. Maybe Gus would even buy him a beer, to thank him for all the healing. Angel or no Angel, Kevin needed to live a little, Gus had told him. Well, so to speak, he'd amended with a grin.

Then there was Owen, who was in his last year of the Forensics course at the University. He was very smart, if a little on the quiet side. Like Gail used to be when she was younger. Whenever they'd had a rare bit of free time, Owen had always had his nose in a book. He'd fought as fiercely as the other men had, though. And a few times he had made suggestions to Frank about their strategy going forward that Frank might not have thought of. Owen had wanted to work with the cops to solve crimes using his intellect, because he abhorred violence, he'd told them. He really thought he would be able to make a difference.

Then Frank looked at Pete and Rick. Kevin had lifted Pete's body off of Rick's to check them both for signs of life. Both men had been shot, and also stabbed, by the looks of things. Pete had probably jumped on top of Rick, seeking to protect him. After their friend Keith had been taken over by a Demon, Pete had assumed the role of Rick's best friend. Pete was single; he'd probably jumped on Rick as a last-ditch effort to try to ensure that his friend could return to his growing family. But the death squads had been thorough.

Frank made himself look at Matt. His friend was laying on his back in the middle of the road, eyes open, a surprised look on his face. His knife lay by his side, and his gun was still in its holster. They must really have been taken by surprise, Frank thought in anguish. Matty had super-acute hearing. Frank would always joke with him that he must be part animal, because he could practically sniff out enemies. Then they would all start to throw out suggestions on what kind of animal Matt could be, and they would laugh. Sometimes, you had to take your entertainment however you could get it.

Frank choked back a sob, and Jody put her arms around him from behind. She could tell he was trying to keep his composure, but he was losing the battle. Frank and Matt had become extremely close throughout the summer. Yet they'd never made any plans to get together socially after this was all over. It was as if one or both of them knew that that would never happen.

"Frank..." Tommy started to say. Gail's brother looked at him, holding up his hand. "Don't," Frank said shortly, past the lump in his throat. "Please, Tommy, just...don't."

"Do you want me to call Cas?" Kevin asked Frank in a small voice.

"What for?" Frank asked angrily. "What the hell for, Kevin?"

Kevin was uncomfortable. He didn't know, exactly. It had just been something to say.

After a moment, Frank said, "I'm gonna walk over to that hardware store, break in, and get some tools. Then I'm gonna give all of these guys a proper burial. You guys can help if you want, or you can draw straws to decide who'll be the lookout. And please, please tell me that there are some of those douchebags still around." He looked down at Matt one more time, searing the painful image in his mind. "I'm sorry, you guys," Frank said, and now the tears were streaming down his face. He didn't feel the need to suppress them now; he was with his family, after all. Then he turned around and started walking to the store.

Cas's team had made it to Morocco now, and they had stopped briefly at a cafe. Becky had been pretty good about it for the most part, but she had finally broken down and told Cas that she needed to wash herself, and comb her hair. If she didn't get to do those things soon, she was just going to let the next Demon kill her, she'd told him. Cas had looked at her for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. He could understand. Sometimes, your spirits could be lifted by such a simple thing as feeling clean. He touched his chin. His beard was getting long again, and he was sure he could use a wash, himself.

So they had all gone in together, and now, he was sitting on the patio, waiting for the others. He looked over at the next table. A man and a woman were sitting there, enjoying a glass of wine. The rudderless death squad had apparently given this city a pass. That actually didn't surprise Castiel at all. Everywhere Cas and his team went now, they had loads of followers traipsing behind. The bigger the population, the more followers there were. The humans in Europe and America may have all but capitulated, but the people of Africa had not. They followed their beloved Yissa'Yah wherever he went, and when some of them had to drop out due to family or work obligations, they would fall back, passing the baton to the next town, like a relay race. The people followed Cas wherever he went, and if his party encountered a death squad along the way, they wouldn't hesitate to join the fray, and they fought viciously to protect the Saviour and his Angels. Cas had long since stopped correcting them. It didn't do any good, anyway.

But there was something about that couple having their wine that was bothering him. And it wasn't just the fact that every couple Cas saw made him long for Gail. No, there was more to it than that. What was it?

His eyes widened. It was the first week of October, was it not? He waved to the server. "What day is it?" he asked the girl.

"October third, Sir," she answered. "Can I get you anything?"

But Cas was no longer looking at her. October 3rd. His heart sank. Was there still time?

Riley came out to the patio, and Cas jumped up from the table. "I need to go somewhere," Cas said to the young Angel. "Can you please keep Becky and Ethan inside until I return?"

"Yeah, sure, Cas," Riley replied.

Cas turned to his followers, who were standing quietly in the street outside the patio. He told them that the Angels would be inside the cafe, and to please help keep them safe until his return. They all murmured their agreement, and he popped out. The patrons and staff at the restaurant didn't bat an eye. They all knew about Yissa by now.

Cas reappeared in America, after sending a quick call to Kevin to find out where they were. All was quiet with Frank's team right now. It was just the four of them again. Lucifer's marketing guy had unfortunately been quite correct; once the humans who had joined Frank's and Gail's squads had been killed en masse, and one of Lucifer's minions had appeared on CNN stating that the lethal gas bombs would continue unless people minded their own damn business, the uprisings had stopped. The "Screw You, Lucifer" campaign would now just be another footnote in the history books, maybe to appear in the future on a Trivial Pursuit card as a question to decide the game. The T-shirts had been relegated to bargain bins in thrift shops, although many people still wore them, albeit concealed under other items of clothing.

Cas popped over to where Frank's group were. He gave everyone a hug and assured them that everyone was fine. He just needed to borrow Frank for a moment.

The two men walked away from the group. Cas was scrutinizing Gail's brother's face, wondering what was different about him. Then it dawned on Cas: Frank's hair was tinged with a dusting of grey. Seeing that made Cas feel sad. He was aware that this year had been hard on all of them, but he was seeing the tangible results now, when he looked at his brother-in-law.

"I have a pretty good idea why you're here," Frank said to Cas. "Do you think we could pop over there just for a few minutes?"

"That's exactly why I'm here, Frank," Cas said, nodding. "I think we need to see her on her birthday, even if it's just for five minutes. Every time I call her now, she sounds so sad."

Frank frowned. "Yeah, well, there's a lot of that going around." He thought for a moment. "Hey, tell you what. Pop me over to the supermarket, first."

The men ran their errand, told Kevin to call Cas if there was any trouble, and then they winked over to Gail's location. Cas had given her a quick call when he and Frank were in the store, just to find out where her group was.

Gail was sitting on a park bench outside one of the University buildings in Copenhagen. After she'd talked to Cas and he hadn't said anything about the date, she'd just assumed that he had forgotten. That wasn't like him, but she supposed she could cut him some slack. It was hard to remember things like birthdays when you were in the midst of Armageddon. Their wedding anniversary was coming up soon, too, but she was sure things would be no different then. Somebody had once said that Hell was repetition. Maybe they'd all already died and they were in Hell right now, doomed to keep at this for all eternity. Or did Purgatory have a branch office?

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she whirled around, blade at the ready.

"I knew you'd be disappointed when you thought that I'd forgotten your birthday, but this is a bit of an overreaction," Cas said, smiling.

Gail leaped off the bench, put her blade in her pocket, and ran around the bench to hug him. "You remembered," she said softly.

Cas gave her a squeeze. "Of course I did," he replied, answering her smile. "I even brought you a present." He pulled out of the embrace and turned her around.

Frank was standing there. "Happy birthday, kiddo," he said, and Gail burst into tears. Her brother took her into his arms. "Awww, now, don't do that," he said, but his voice was thick with emotion. The two of them stayed that way for a minute or two, and then Frank pried her off of him, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Quit it, kid. You're getting me all soggy," Frank said, sniffling. "And I think you've squished your cake now." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cupcake. "Ta-da!"

Gail stared at him. "You know I don't eat, right?" she said, wiping the tears away with the heels of her hands.

"I believe the words you're searching for are, 'Thank you, my most esteemed elder brother, who can kick my ass, if need be'," Frank retorted, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"In your dreams," Gail said, rolling her eyes. But she was smiling now, too. "Haven't you heard? I've got those gold laser beam thingies now. I went from being your sister to being an Angel to being some kind of space alien, or something. I could extend my arm and zap you into next week."

"Fine, then," Frank said affably. "I realize that the cupcake was a hollow gesture. I just wanted a treat." He unwrapped the cupcake and stuffed it into his mouth as Gail took Cas's hand, smiling up at her husband.

"My present is a little bit gross and juvenile, but I'm happy to receive it, anyway," she told Cas. He smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

The three of them chatted for a couple of minutes, sharing stories. Even though Cas and Frank were trying to keep the conversation light, their efforts were falling flat. Every subject they brought up led them to a happier memory, which only served to spotlight how bad things had gotten.

"You know what?" Gail said soberly. "Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful to see you both, but it's almost worse this way. You'll just go away again. It's just like when I was a little girl in the hospital. They wouldn't let Mom come and visit me then, remember?" she said to Frank.

"I remember, but I'm surprised YOU do," he said. "You must have only been about three years old."

Gail was startled. "I haven't thought about that in years."

"What were you in the hospital for, at such a young age?" Cas asked her, curious. All three of them were sitting on the bench now, with Gail sitting in-between the men. She and Cas were holding hands, of course, and he had his other arm around her, too. He didn't want to let go of her for one second he was able to be here with her.

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "I don't really know. Or, I can't remember. One of those, anyway." She looked up at her husband's face. She had been soaking up his presence and his touch just like a sponge, and now, she was trying to take a photograph of his appearance with her mind. He still had the beard, but it was more neatly trimmed than the last time she'd seen him. She wondered if he'd groomed himself before coming here. That wouldn't surprise her. Even after everything they'd been through, Cas never really changed. The rest of them had, but he never did.

"Mom said you had to get your tonsils out," Frank said.

Gail looked at her brother, then back at her husband. "Oh. Well, there you go," she said mildly, shrugging. But Gail was preoccupied now. Like Cas, she had noticed the tinge of grey in Frank's hair, and the shock associated with this sight was causing her to revert back to the little girl she had been back then. A small, frightened child who had been left on her own in a strange place, without knowing why...

VIGNETTE - THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD

Gail waited until the nurse turned out the light and left the room, and then she hopped off the bed. She brought her favourite stuffed animal with her, the only one she'd been allowed to bring from home.

"Come on, Ralph," she said to the stuffed penguin. "Let's see if that lady is out there again."

She went over to the window and looked down at the sidewalk in front of the hospital. Her room was on the third floor, not that far up, so Gail could see fairly well from her perch on the window sill. Sure enough, there was a woman standing in front of the hospital underneath a street light, looking up at the building. She was too far away for Gail to be able to read the expression on her face, but her body language suggested hesitation, maybe even trepidation. But after a couple of minutes, the woman took a deep breath and walked to the front entrance of the hospital, and then she went in.

Gail hugged Ralph to her. She had no idea why that woman fascinated her so much. She'd been standing there in that same spot the night before, when she'd caught little Gail's eye. But instead of entering the hospital then, the woman had looked up towards the rooms instead. Gail gasped when she felt that the woman was looking right at her. She ran back to the bed and got under the covers. It was almost as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. Well, technically, she had been, Gail thought. She was supposed to be in bed, sleeping. But she'd been restless. She still didn't know why her mother had left her in this place. The nurses were kind enough to her, but when the night nurse had tucked Gail in, the child had touched the woman's arm and known that the nurse was thinking about something called an "operation", and that had something to do with Gail. The nurse was also thinking that she disagreed with the hospital's stance on "visitation", whatever that was. Anyway, Gail hadn't been able to sleep because her mind was racing, so she'd gone to the window to get some fresh air, and to look outside. And that was when she'd seen the woman. Gail had no idea whether or not the lady had seen her, but in her child's logic, she'd thought that if the woman had been there the night before, she would be there again tonight. And the woman had been, but tonight, she had come inside the building.

Gail climbed back into the bed. "Who's that lady?" she asked Ralph softly. But Ralph had no answer for her.

Wendy sat at the nurse's station making a note in Gail's chart. Patient was settled in for the night, still waiting on Dr. Whannock's office to advise when he would be well enough to do the surgery. The child had been here for three days now, and counting. Wendy had asked one of the other nurses who'd come in to relieve her in the morning why, if the surgeon was sick, did they not just have the on-call doctor or one of the interns do it? It was just a simple tonsillectomy, after all. But the day nurse had told Wendy that the family had insisted. Dr. Whannock was the best pediatric surgeon in their region, and they couldn't have just any doctor operate on their little girl. So here the girl was, and here she would stay until Dr. Whannock was over his bout with the flu.

The parents must have deep pockets, Wendy thought, sitting back in her chair. Little Gail had a private room, and rumour had it that the hospital had been paid handsomely to keep the wing of the hospital where the child was staying empty. If that was true, it was very odd. Why would it be so important to her parents that the girl be isolated like that? Wendy felt sorry for her. Whatever the weird arrangement was that her parents may or may not have with the hospital administration, the bottom line was that Gail was a small child, and she was all alone. The Powers That Be had decided that once a child was brought to the hospital to await an operation, the parents would not be allowed to return until their child was ready to go home. The thought process was that it was more difficult on the child for the parents to come and visit, but then leave without him or her. At least, for the younger children, anyway. Wendy could understand that point of view, intellectually, and why that decision had been made. But emotionally, it was a whole different ballgame. The administrators weren't here when Wendy tucked the children in at night. She was the one who had to look at the bewildered expressions on the children's faces at being put to bed every night by a stranger. Sometimes, they would ask her where their parents were, or why they weren't here, and she would have to think of an answer that a child of that age might understand. And then there were some children like Gail, who seemed to just quietly accept the situation as it was.

The woman who had been watching the hospital had made it all the way up to the pediatric wing, and she was around the corner from the nurses' station, watching Wendy. She'd been hoping the nurse would leave her post at some point, so that she could...do what? Was she really prepared to go through with this?

It was all too scary. What had she been thinking, coming here? She'd acted purely on impulse; as soon as she'd seen in a vision that the girl was in the hospital, she hadn't been able to help herself. But now that she was here, she felt afraid. Did she dare?

Suddenly, she sneezed, and the nurse looked up from her charts. Damn it!

Wendy got up and went around the corner. She'd grabbed the walkie-talkie for security in case they were needed, but she doubted it. Probably just someone who'd taken a wrong turn. She'd seen it many times.

It was a blonde woman who was standing there, looking at Wendy with big eyes. "Excuse me," the woman said in a tiny voice. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Who are you?" Wendy asked her. "What are you doing here?"

The blonde woman had no idea what to say. She'd never been any good at deception. So, she told Wendy the truth.

"I was hoping to see my daughter," the woman said.

Ohhh. Wendy got it. This was one of the mothers, the ones who didn't agree with the hospital's rules. Either that, or she just wanted to tuck in her little one for the night.

"I'll tell you what," Wendy said quietly. "If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll let you in to see her. But we'll have to look up the room number first. You're in the wrong wing."

Gail's mother frowned. "That can't be. I saw her looking out the window."

Wendy's eyes narrowed. "There's only one child in this wing right now, and I know you're not her mother. So, you're obviously mistaken."

The woman's nerve broke. If she'd been a different sort of individual, she might have tried to brazen it through. Then again, if she was a different sort of individual, she would never have allowed herself to get pregnant in the first place. "I guess I am," she said nervously. Then she turned around and walked quickly away.

When she got outside, Gail's mother began to shake. What the hell had she been thinking? What about if she'd gotten caught? She was forbidden to contact Gail's adoptive family any more, not since that one time that he had found out about. Nor was she allowed to have anything to do with the child. And she'd thought that she was fine with that. But then, when she'd sensed that there was something wrong with the child, she'd found herself here. And now, she'd given herself away. Hopefully, their daughter wouldn't suffer too badly for her mistake.

Little Gail had fallen asleep by then, oblivious to the fact that her real mother had been just steps away from her room. It took a couple more days for Dr. Whannock to get well enough to operate on her, and by the time that occurred, Gail had already accepted the apparent fact that the hospital was her new home. It was puzzling to her, but because she was so young, Gail had just gone with it. It's not like she had any choice.

Fortunately, she had discovered the playroom at the end of the hall, and because she was the only child in the wing, she had it all to herself. So she would take Ralph down there in the morning and play by herself. There were a number of donated stuffed animals in the playroom, and she would gather them all together, sitting down on the floor with them. Then she and Ralph would have a conversation with each one in turn. Gail had quite a few stuffed animals in her room at home, and that was how she spent much of her time there. She'd been too young yet to go to school, but even at such a tender age, Gail had been a precocious and imaginative child. Frank's mother had recognized that, so she had provided the child with a collection of different stuffed animals. Gail had given them all names and personalities, and she had spent many a happy hour going on adventures with her animal friends.

And now, she was living in this place. But luckily, she and Ralph had found some new friends. The nurses would peek into the playroom as Gail would sit there cuddling Ralph and talking to their new friends, spinning fanciful stories. She was already teaching herself how to read, and Gail would try out her brand-new vocabulary on her friends. They were going to travel the world and have all kinds of exciting adventures. They would probably have to stick mainly to countries with cooler climates, though, because Ralph was a penguin, and he didn't like warm climates.

The nurses would look at each other and smile. How cute was that? They couldn't believe this girl was only three years old; she spoke as if she were quite a bit older than that. But the women felt a little sorry for Gail, too. She seemed like such an introverted child. Of course, her family wasn't exactly helping by isolating her like this, either. But she would be due to go to school in a couple of years anyway, and the nurses supposed it really wasn't any of their business, as long as the child wasn't being mistreated. If anything, it seemed to them that she was being overprotected, by being segregated from other children this way.

Gail had two more days of playtime, and then she had her operation. Then Frank's mother arrived at the hospital to take a very confused and groggy child home.

"They were all gone," Gail said now, looking at Frank.

Her brother winced. He was hoping she'd forgotten about that. She may be an adult now, but that had been a really crappy thing to do to a kid of her age. He hadn't thought much about it at the time, because he'd been just a kid himself, but he remembered when Gail had come running out of her room, bawling her eyes out.

"Where are my friends?" Gail yelled. She'd been too out of it the day before, but as soon as she'd opened her eyes the next morning and looked around the room, she'd seen: all of her stuffed animals were gone.

She panicked, running out of her room to the upstairs landing. "Ralph!" she'd screamed, as a child would do. Ralph the penguin was her favourite, and her best friend. She'd fallen asleep clutching him, as usual. But now he was gone, along with all the others.

Gail went tearing down the stairs and out to the kitchen, where Christina was serving Frank his breakfast. Their father had already gone to work.

"Where are my friends?" Gail repeated. She was wailing by this point, the tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Oh my God, kiddo," Frank grumbled good-naturedly, pouring the milk on his cereal. "Only dogs can hear you now."

"Eat your breakfast, Frank, or you'll be late for school," Christina told her son sternly. She looked down at Gail. "I had to remove them from your room. You just had an operation, Gail. You should be in your room, resting."

"What do you mean, you had to remove them?!" Gail cried. Her eyes were as wide as saucers now.

"The doctors told me that you need to be in a clean, sterile environment," Frank's mother told the child. "Those stuffed animals were filthy and smelly. You take them outside and drag them through the dirt, and then bring them back up to your room. They were probably riddled with germs. In fact, that's probably why you got sick in the first place."

Frank had looked up sharply at that. His Mom had told him that Gail had her tonsils out. He'd asked his buddies at school about that, and they'd told him it was no big deal. A lot of little kids had that operation. At least three of his friends had already had it. There were these things called tonsils in your throat, and if your throat got sore, the doctors would just yank them out. But it was OK; you didn't need your tonsils, anyway. His sister's throat would probably be sore for a couple of days, but that would be it.

But now, his Mom was saying that germs from her stuffed animals were the reason that she'd had to have the operation? That sounded wrong to Frank. But why would his Mom say that, then?

Little Gail wasn't buying it either, nor did she care. "But they were my friends!" she sobbed. "Where's Ralph?"

"They weren't your friends," Christina said, and her tone was curt now. "They were inanimate objects. Surely you know the difference."

Frank sat there, open-mouthed. His sister was only three years old, but she had one of the most fertile imaginations he had ever seen. He had heard her in her room, talking out loud to her stuffed animals, and he'd thought it was cute as anything. But Frank didn't really know anything about it; maybe the doctors had advised his Mom to do what she'd done. Still, he thought it was pretty mean. But he'd better not say anything. His Mom had That Look on her face now. He was running late for school as it was; did he really want to push it?

But Frank felt sorry for his little sister nonetheless. The kid was only three years old, for Pete's sake. To her, those stuffed animals HAD been her friends, the only ones she had. Then again, on the other hand, it wasn't like they'd been real pets, or anything. Frank had been begging their Dad for a puppy for just about forever, but their Dad had said that getting a dog was an extra responsibility that they didn't need. Frank had begged and begged him, but somewhat uncharacteristically, his Dad hadn't budged on the subject. Now, THAT was mean.

Frank opened his mouth to tell his sister about that now, but Gail was staring intently at Christina. "I hate you," the little girl hissed. Then she turned around and went back upstairs to her room. She took one of the books she'd been starting to read from the bookshelf in the corner. Fine. If her mother wanted her to grow up, she would grow up. She had been teaching herself to read at the age of three, when many other kids her age didn't even know their alphabet yet. "I'm going to get educated, and then I'm going to leave this place," she fumed now, plopping down on her bed. She automatically reached for Ralph, and then she checked herself. Her friend was gone. She would just have to accept that. All of her friends were gone. Yes, she had known they weren't real. She was young, not delusional. But the made-up adventures she'd had with them had made her happy. What was the harm in that?

Now she would have to find a different way to engage her mind. But maybe she'd better hide this particular book from her mother. Christina definitely wouldn't approve of the subject matter.

Gail opened the book and began to read about the adventures of a man named Jonathan Harker.

"That was when I first started getting an idea that there was something definitely different about you," Frank said to Gail now. He grinned at Cas. "That's one smart cookie you married. She was already reading at an advanced level when she started school. The teachers encouraged her, and she started reading all kinds of grown-up stuff. Mom would confiscate the scariest ones, saying they were going to give her nightmares." But then more and more of them would pop up in Gail's room, and eventually Christina gave up, saying that if her daughter was going to be that stubborn about it, she could deal with the nightmares on her own.

"I never had nightmares, though," Gail said matter-of-factly. Then she made a face. "And it's a good thing I didn't, because I didn't have Ralph there to console me, did I? That one really hurt, you know. She could at least have left me with Ralph. I really don't know what the point of all that was. Your mom was never a germaphobe, so that couldn't be it. Was she trying to force me to grow up early, or something? Still, is it just me, or did that seem unnecessarily cruel?"

"It's not just you," Cas growled. He was seething. His heart had broken for that little girl. Left in the hospital all alone, separated from the only family she had ever known. Operated on and then shipped back home, only to discover that her beloved stuffed animals were gone. He'd had no idea. Frank's mother had been standoffish to Gail when they'd talked to her spirit at the house in Denver, but the cruelty she'd shown to Gail in this instance was astonishing. Cas looked at Frank, eyes blazing. "How could your mother have been so cruel?" Cas asked Frank angrily.

Frank was uncomfortable. "I don't know, Cas. I never really thought about it as being that cruel at the time. But I was a kid, too. I didn't get a vote, any more than Gail did. But my Mom wasn't a mean woman, Cas. There had to be a reason for her to have done that."

Cas was unconvinced. It was only natural that Frank should want to defend his mother, but Cas was livid on Gail's behalf. He put his arms around his wife and held her, as if doing so would console the little girl she'd been then.

"Anyway," Frank continued, "my Dad took me to the fair that weekend. I guess my Mom told him I was still whining over that whole puppy thing. And before you ask, no, Gail didn't come with us. My Mom said she was too young, and she had to recover from her operation. But I still felt bad about that whole stuffed animal thing, so I got my Dad to pay for one of those games where you aim a water pistol at a target and if you win, you get a prize. Needless to say, I won. I guess I was a good shot even back then. So I picked out the biggest stuffed animal they had. Then, when we got home, I brought it up to Gail's room and gave it to her."

Gail put her hand on her brother's arm, giving it a squeeze. "To this day, that's one of the sweetest memories I have of being a child in that house," she said to Frank warmly. "And it's one of the sweetest memories I have of you."

Cas couldn't take it anymore. Tears started to run down his cheeks. He could see it all so clearly. The look of surprise on little Gail's face when Frank presented her with the plush toy. Her face would break out into a wide smile then, and she would hop off her bed and hug her brother, thanking him. He would tell her to shut up about it, but he would be hugging her back, smiling.

"I love you, Frank," Cas blurted out, and Gail's brother smirked. "I'm spoken for, Cas, and so are you," he quipped. It was unbelievable. His brother-in-law, the fierce warrior, reduced to a blubbering mess over a stuffed animal story.

"Wow, hopefully no enemies can see you now," Frank wisecracked, and Gail shushed him. She thought it was very sweet that Cas was so touched by the story, just as she'd been grateful for his anger on her behalf. That was Cas, and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him so much.

Cas wiped his eyes. "I promise you both that I will not rest until I can make a better life for us. I'll just have to figure out how," he concluded sadly.

Gail put her arms around Cas and hugged him tightly. "You will, sweetie," she told him softly. "Look how great you made my day today."

Cas kissed her on the forehead, and then he looked at Frank. "You may want to look away for a moment," he said to Gail's brother. "I need to give your sister her birthday kiss now."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Frank said, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling. He rose from the bench. "I'll be over there," he said, pointing off in the distance.

Gail was touching Cas's face now, wiping an errant tear fom his cheek. "I'm glad you came, even though it's going to hurt like hell to see you go," she said to him.

Cas was distressed. "You deserve so much more than I'm giving you," he said softly.

Gail put her fingers on his lips. "Don't say that, Cas. None of this is your doing. We all deserve better. So do you." She smiled. "Thanks for my birthday present. Now give me my kiss, and then you'd better get going."

She was amazing. All she seemed to do was roll with the punches, Cas thought. Even from birth, the hits had just kept on coming for Gail. When would it ever end? Cas didn't know, but he vowed to himself that it would, and soon.

He kissed her on the lips, holding her close. "I love you so much, my darling," Cas told her. "If I could, I would give you everything."

"You already did, the day you married me," Gail said with a tight smile. "Things suck right now, but if that little reminiscence taught me anything, it's that things can get better. I just have to believe that things can get better."

They kissed again, and then Cas took Gail by the hand and led her over to where Frank was standing. Gail hugged her brother, kissing him on the cheek. Then Cas gave her one more squeeze, and then the men disappeared.

When Frank returned to his group, he took Jody aside and told her the stuffed animal story. "I'd forgotten about that," he said to his wife, "but I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it, Jodes. It makes my mother look like a horrible person, but she wasn't like that. I swear, she wasn't. So why would she do such a crap thing?"

Jody was mystified. Why WOULD Christina have done such a cruel thing?

The answer was simple: Christina had done it because Gail's father had ordered her to.

The morning after Gail's real mother had shown up at the hospital for the second time, Gail's father waited until Christina was alone in the house, and then he knocked on the front door.

Christina opened it, and her face fell when she saw who it was. She hadn't seen him since the day he'd brought the baby to her for the first time, and she liked that arrangement just fine. In fact, she'd been hoping never to see him again.

He strode past her into the house. "Why are you here?" he said angrily. "Why aren't you at the hospital?"

Christina explained the hospital's policy to him, and he was enraged. "What the hell kind of a stupid-ass policy is that?" he yelled.

"I don't know," she said nervously, "but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Her mother didn't seem to have that attitude," he snapped. "She almost got in to see her. And if she had, there's no telling what that crazy bitch would have done."

He was the crazy one, Christina thought. But of course, she didn't say so out loud. She wanted to keep on living.

Gail's father stood there for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. "I'm not so sure the kid didn't send out some kind of a call," he mused aloud. "She has to be taught a lesson."

"Who do you mean?" Christina said, astonished. "Are you talking about Gail?"

He came close, staring her in the face. "Did I stutter?" he said coldly.

Christina was trembling now, but she stood her ground. "But she's just a child!" she protested. "She's only three years old!"

But Gail's father was unmoved. "Pick something that child cherishes," he said, staring into her eyes, "and then take it away from her."

"What if I refuse?" Christina said quietly.

"Then I believe I'll have to pay young Frank a visit at his school," he said calmly.

Christina's blood ran cold. He meant it, too. How on earth had she ever allowed herself to get mixed up with this man? So she had promised him that she would take Gail's stuffed animals away from her.

"Good. Do it," he'd said briskly. "Bring them to me. I'll wait."

Christina sighed, and then she went to get a large garbage bag from the kitchen. She hurried upstairs to Gail's room and did as he ordered, as quickly as she could. She didn't want that monster in her house for even one second longer than was necessary.

She rushed downstairs with the bag crammed full and thrust it at him. "Is this all of them?" he asked her calmly.

Christina frowned. "All except for the one she took to the hospital with her."

He nodded, taking the bag from her. "Her favourite, I presume?"

She sighed again. "Yes."

Gail's father smiled, but that only made him look scarier, somehow. "When she is released from the hospital, you will take it from her and burn it."

Christina regarded him mutely. She considered pleading with him to at least leave the poor girl with the one toy that Gail loved the most, but the words dried up in her throat. She knew it would be no use. And he had already threatened her with Frank. If she were to say one more word, he might just go to Frank's school anyway. He was a monster. But his presence here was Christina's fault, and so it was her responsibility to keep Gail's father happy. At least he only wanted the stuffed animals. It could have been much, much worse.

So she had done as he'd ordered, taking Ralph from Gail's arms as the child slept, and burning the stuffed penguin in the back yard. That had felt especially awful to Christina, almost like some sort of Satanic ritual. Ralph had seemed to be gazing up at her accusingly. "I'm sorry, Ralph," she said softly. "You don't know what he's like. He could annihilate us all, just with a few well-chosen words and the right ingredients." Ralph made no reply; he just kept staring at each other. Was she really going to break her adoptive daughter's heart like this?

Christina struck the match. "I'm sorry, Ralph," she said again. Great. Now she was talking to the thing, calling it by that ridiculous name that Gail had insisted on giving it. She threw the match on top of the toy, watching it burn, and now, she was crying.

The next morning, when Gail had looked at Christina with cold eyes and told her adoptive mother that she hated her, Christina had accepted the rebuke as her due. But that was the first time she had ever seen the girl's real father's face reflected in Gail's expression, and it had taken her aback a little. Now Frank's mother really regretted taking Gail. But it was too late. Life was unfair sometimes, and it was her fault for inviting the evil in, in the first place. Still, Christina pitied the girl, and anyone who would have the misfortune to be close to her in the future. But Christina didn't plan on being one of those people. She would raise the girl until she was of legal age, and then Gail was on her own. Life was too short.

Gail sat thinking about that whole thing, too, after Cas and Frank had left. Now she was thinking about the envelope she had gotten at their house in Denver. It was still sitting in the top drawer of the bureau in the master bedroom of her and Cas's house, awaiting a resolution to the situation with Lucifer. She smiled bitterly. The way things were going, it would sit there forever. She'd told Cas that she had faith, but she had lied.

She rose wearily from the bench and went looking for her team.

VIGNETTE - ANGELS DON'T CRY

"My back hurts, and my feet are killing me," Dean groused. "Can we sit down for, like, ten minutes? I want to eat my turkey jerky and pretend I'm watching a football game." He sat down on a tree stump. Well, if you could call it sitting. He'd probably be picking splinters out of his butt for weeks. Maybe he'd ask Gail to do it, and tell her she could kiss it, while she was down there.

Sam remained standing, saying nothing, as usual. It stood to reason that Dean would be crankier than cranky today. It was Thanksgiving Day back in America, but they were in Paris, France at the moment. Nobody gave a damn about the U.S. of A. or their traditions here. But Dean was homesick. He just wanted some turkey and gravy, a slice of pie or three, some beers, and a football game. Was that too much to ask?

"Thanksgiving Day," Dean said bitterly, gnawing on his jerky. "Name me one thing we have to be thankful for."

"I'd be thankful if we could just get through one day without you bitching all the time," Bobby said irascibly. He lowered himself slowly to sit down on a log. "'Waaah, waaaah. My whole body hurts'. Try being my age."

"Well, I'm sure your head hurts, too, but that pain is self-inflicted," Dean shot back. "Try laying off the booze sometime."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you," Bobby retorted.

"Would you guys both just shut up?" Sam exclaimed. "God! All you guys do anymore is argue!"

"Well, what do you know? It speaks," Bobby said sarcastically.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. "Maybe you should all just shut up, and man up, while you're at it."

"'Man up', she says," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"You heard me," she said sharply. "I don't ask you guys to do anything I don't do myself."

"Yeah, but you're an Angel," Sam pointed out.

"So?" Gail challenged him.

"So, you don't have needs, like we do," Dean said. "We need to eat, and sleep, and rest once in a while."

"I know that, Dean, and I realize I don't eat or sleep," she said, trying to hold on to her temper. "But I do have feelings, you know. When's the last time you said anything to any one of us that wasn't a complaint? When's the last time you even called me by my name? Do you know how long it's been since I've heard a decent word coming out of any one of you? I haven't seen Cas since the beginning of October, and the first thing we always say to each other on the rare occasions we get to talk on Angel Radio isn't 'I love you', it's 'is everybody still alive'! How pathetic is that? So, you know what, Dean? THAT'S what we've got to be thankful for. That everybody's still alive. Now eat your jerky, pack up your crap, and let's go. And if I hear one more negative word out of any one of you, the next people who are going to feel my golden laser beams roasting their butts will be the three of you. And I wouldn't test me, if I were you. You've all seen how good I've gotten at it now."

She walked away from the group, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Why did he always do that to her? He just made her so mad all the time. Then she would spout off like she'd just done, and she would sound like the biggest bitch in the world. She couldn't even stand to hear herself any more.

There had to be a way to end this madness. It was November, already. November! They'd been at this for nearly a year now, with no let-up in sight. After she'd seen Frank on her birthday, Gail had become even more acutely aware of the passage of time. She'd seen the dusting of grey in his hair, and it had hurt her just to look at it. They had to do something, or they were all going to lose their damn minds, at the very least.

A couple of weeks ago, she'd had the bright idea to try to take the fight to Lucifer. His numbers had to be down by now. If they could just find out where his compound was, they could go there and at least check out his situation. If he still had huge numbers, at least they would know. But if not, maybe they should just try to fight their way through to the Boss. They had to try something; if they were out here much longer, bad things were going to happen. Well, worse things than were already happening. At this point, a suicide mission was starting to look like a desirable option. Or, better still, murder-suicide, if she heard one more complaint coming out of Dean's stupid face.

But they'd tried capturing and torturing Demons just to get the location of Lucifer's compound, and they had failed. The first couple they'd tried it on revealed nothing, and they had ended up killing them. A third had told them defiantly that the compound was in Narnia, which had made Gail so angry that she had carved him up like a pumpkin. Which seemed appropriate, considering what time of the year it had been. Narnia, indeed. Did he think that was funny? People had been dying all over the world, she had wasted nearly a year chasing her tail, and he was being a smartass. So she had stuck him and she had slashed at him, again and again, until Sam had had to pull her away. Then she'd gone outside the cabin they'd been using as a safe house and torture facility, and she had tried to make herself breathe normally again. To think, she used to be horrified to see Cas torturing Demons. Now, she was out here with a bloody knife and murder in her eyes, wishing for more Demons to inflict pain on. Why should she be the only one who felt such agony all the time?

That Demon had ended up dead too, but she'd felt like they were making progress. At least they'd gotten a name, even if it was a stupid, smartass, made-up one. But after that, word seemed to spread, and the subsequent Demons just started smoking out any time one of their group got near them with the handcuffs. And Gail didn't know how to force them back into their vessels. She'd tried to do it, but she wasn't strong enough, or experienced enough, she supposed. Maybe Cas could teach her eventually. But they certainly didn't have time for school right now.

Now her thoughts were back in the present, and Gail knew what she had to try next. If they couldn't torture the location out of a Demon, they would have to take the next logical step. They would have to torture it out of a human.

A few days later, the opportunity presented itself. Gail's team was fighting a death squad of a half dozen Demons and three humans, and they were making their way through them quite nicely when Gail noticed something. One of the humans was a young male with long hair who was standing just beyond the battleground. Once they got the number down to a manageable handful, Gail ventured another look at the youth. Then she noticed two things about him simultaneously: he had an expression of shock on his face, and the knife he held was clean. She started to move closer to him while keeping her eyes on the fight, but there were only three enemies left now, and her guys had things well in hand.

"Corey!" one of the Demons yelled. "What the hell are you waiting for?! Get in here and DO something!" He shook his head in disgust, avoiding Sam's lunge. The kid was useless. Lucifer was really scraping the bottom of the barrel, now. Corey had shown up at the compound a while back with his long hair and heavy metal T-shirts, claiming to be a Satanist who wanted to serve Lucifer. His real name was Corey, he'd told the guys, but he hated that name. His mom had had a crush on some lame-ass celebrity of the same name, and now that Corey was in high school, all the guys made fun of his name. So he told them all to call him Charlie, after his hero, Charles Manson. Later, when Lucifer himself had vetted the new arrivals, he'd looked at Corey speculatively. What was this guy, all of fifteen? The only thing Corey had ever murdered was his mom's grocery budget. But the numbers were down considerably now, and he pretty much had to take what he could get. Besides, you never knew; appearances could sometimes be deceiving. Look at the reports that were coming back on Gail. Like everyone else, Lucifer had originally thought that Castiel was nuts to send her out there without Castiel's protection, and in charge of a group of mortals, to boot. But she'd proven herself to be one tough cookie, and now, she was torturing his Demons to try to get information. And she was doing it by herself. Lucifer'd had to grin at that. That was awesome. Apparently, this little tour of duty was altering her personality so radically that she was turning into the kind of Angel that Castiel used to be, back in the day. The type of Angel that Cas was trying so very hard not to be, any more. At last report, Castiel was still drifting around Africa, being Jesus to all the poor people. Word was that Castiel was performing miracles there on a daily basis, and the people there worshipped him. Literally. His Brother had set himself up with a really sweet gig, there. While his own wife and his friends were rolling around in the mud and the blood, living rough, Castiel had entire villages vying over the privilege of being able to house and serve him. This just proved the point that Lucifer had always been trying to make: his Brother was a selfish bastard, who only cared about himself and his own comforts. Yet Castiel was loved and revered, while Lucifer was hated and reviled. Oh, well. No matter. This whole rat race was nearly at an end, anyway. Sooner or later, they were going to realize that he no longer had the numbers to extend the war indefinitely. But until then, he would keep on keepin' on. They were all eternal beings. Well, the really important players were, anyway.

So Lucifer had sent Corey out to fight, but young Corey had been all talk, and no action. As soon as he'd seen his group's first murders, Corey had been half-paralyzed with shock. What the hell had he been thinking? After the slaughter was over, one of the Demons had grabbed Corey roughly and told him that the next time, Corey was going to get his knife dirty.

But then, the next thing he knew, they were being attacked by the Angel and the humans, and when Corey had seen the woman, he had gasped. She was shooting golden laser beams at his group, searing holes in them. She stabbed one of the guys in the abdomen, then twisted the knife, and pulled it up. A minute later, he'd fallen face forward onto the pavement, but not before Corey had seen his intestines spilling out of him like link sausages. Man, that was harsh.

So now, this short little woman was standing in front of Corey, covered in blood, and she was staring at him. Crap.

Suddenly, she grabbed him, and the street disappeared. A second later, she had plunked Corey down in a chair, seized his knife, and cuffed his hands behind him. She fastened the cuffs to the manacles that were already attached to the chair and put the keys in her pocket.

"Stay right here," she quipped. "We'll be with you shortly." Then she winked out of the cabin.

When she got back to the battleground, the fight was over. "Oh, there you are," Sam remarked. "Where were you? We were worried."

"Sorry, but you were in the middle of it, and I had to act quickly," she replied. "I took a hostage."

"I thought we'd given up on that," Bobby said. He had taken a handkerchief out of his pocket and he was wiping the blood off his face. He knew that Gail was going to clean them in a minute, but if there was anything Bobby hated, it was blood on his face.

Gail was nodding. "We did, Bobby, but this guy's not going to smoke out on us. Come on, let's go." She winked them into the cabin, and the men stared at Corey.

"This kid's not a Demon," Dean said, puzzled.

"Duh," she said sarcastically. "Therefore, he can't smoke out on us."

"But he's just a kid!" Dean protested. "What are you, fourteen?" he asked Corey.

The youth was trembling. "I'm sixteen, and I never killed anybody, I swear."

"Oh, right. You're on Lucifer's death squad, and you never killed anybody," Gail said contemptuously. She strode forward, closer to the chair. "What's your name?"

"Charlie - I mean, Corey," he stammered.

"Well, Charlie-I-Mean-Corey, whatever your name is, you're going to tell us where Lucifer's compound is, and I'm only going to ask you once," Gail said to the youth. She put her blade to his cheek, just below his eye. "So unless you want me to carve you up like the Thanksgiving turkey we all never got to have, courtesy of your Boss...talk."

"You want to know where Lucifer's compound is?" Corey asked her in a small voice.

"Did I stutter?" Gail said angrily, sounding eerily like her natural father. Though she would have no way of knowing that, of course. She ran the tip of her blade down Corey's face, opening up a cut in his cheek. He was whimpering with fear now. "You've been spending too much time with Demons," Gail continued conversationally. "They've made you stupid. I said I was only going to ask you once." She changed her grip on the blade and drove it straight into Corey's thigh, just below the femoral artery. She didn't want him to bleed out.

Corey screamed in pain. Gail withdrew her knife. She was considering where to go next when Sam grabbed her knife arm.

She wheeled around. "What?"

"We need to talk," Sam said. She let him lead her outside the cabin. "What are you doing?" Sam asked her, tight-lipped.

"What's it look like?" Gail said, rolling her eyes.

"Don't play badass with me, Gail," Sam shot back. "This isn't you. You can't torture that kid."

"Oh, no? Watch me," she retorted.

He grabbed her by her shoulders. "Are you even listening to yourself right now? You know you can't do that."

"Why not, Sam? What makes him different than any of those other douchebags?" she said angrily.

"Look at him, Gail. He's just a kid. He probably doesn't even shave yet. Did he even have a weapon?"

Gail frowned. "He had a knife, Sam. I took it."

"An Angel blade?" Sam persisted.

"No, just a knife," Gail replied, annoyed. "And yes, before you ask, it was clean. But so what? We clean our weapons all the time. And it doesn't matter, anyway. He knows where the compound is, and he's going to tell us."

"Let's just talk to him, then," Sam cajoled. "He looks like he's going to crap his pants any minute. He might just tell us where it is."

She laughed scornfully. "Aren't you cute. No, Sam. The time for polite conversation has passed. That's it. Now, move."

He held her there. "Who ARE you, now?" he asked her, agitated. "You're not yourself any more. You're not the Gail I know."

"I agree," she said grimly. "But I'm the Gail I need to be to get this done. Now get out of my way, Sam."

"I'm sorry, Gail." He whipped out the sigil handcuffs he'd been keeping in his jacket pocket and cuffed her hands in front of her, taking her Angel blade out of her hand. She was so surprised that she didn't react.

But, predictably enough, she was angry. "What the hell, Sam?"

"This is for your own good," he said earnestly.

Gail swore, using a very earthy phrase that Sam had never heard her say before. He looked at her sadly.

Dean came out onto the porch, looking at the two of them. He saw the handcuffs on Gail's wrists, and he'd heard the phrase she'd just used. Had this been under different circumstances, Dean would probably have been highly amused. Maybe even congratulated her on it. But he'd seen her with that kid, and he knew they couldn't let her cross over like that. Yes, this was war, but Dean knew from personal experience that there were some things you could never completely come back from. He understood that she'd had to change her personality to a certain extent to do what she'd had to do all year, and he did respect her for it, thought he knew it didn't show. But as soon as Cas had made the decision to team her with the Winchesters, Sam and Dean had made a pact to protect her, no matter what. And if it turned out that they had to protect her from herself, so be it.

"I already made the call," Dean said to his brother.

Gail was glaring at both of them now, doing the slow burn. "You'd better not be talking about what I think you're talking about."

But a moment later, Cas showed up, and Gail glared daggers at Dean.

"I know, you hate me," Dean said, almost cheerfully. He gave Cas a one-armed hug. "It's good to see you, man," Dean said to his friend. "Me and Sammy'll be inside."

"Please take the cuffs off of Gail," Cas said quietly.

Sam hesitated a moment, but then he shrugged. Now that Cas was here, Gail wouldn't be able to pull any Angel crap on them behind their backs. So he took the cuffs off her and gave her back her Angel blade. She grabbed it from his hand like she was considering using it on him for a moment, but then she put it in her pocket and the brothers went in the cabin.

"I hear that you have some ideas on tactical changes, going forward," Cas said, approaching her.

She eyed him suspiciously. Was he trying to be funny? He was doing that inscrutable thing that he did sometimes. She couldn't really tell.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Look, those two cowards didn't have to bring in the big gun. But now that they have, you can actually help me. If you and I team up to interrogate this guy, he'll crack in about two seconds, and there'll be nothing the Whine-chesters can do about it."

Cas did a double-take. The Whine-chesters? Had she and Dean somehow swapped personalities since the last time Cas had been here? He stared at his wife, saying nothing.

"Oh, let me guess. You don't approve," she went on, sighing. "And now they think, since you're here, you'll lay down the law, and I'll have to give up the idea."

"No, that's not true," Cas said evenly. "In fact, I'm considering your idea very carefully. I think it has merit."

Gail was surprised. Really? She'd thought for sure that he was going to side with Sam and Dean.

"But if anyone is going to interrogate him, it's going to be me," Cas told her. "If he truly is an innocent, I will take the responsibility. It's my fault that you find yourself in this situation now, anyway. I can bear a few more stains on my soul."

She looked at him sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Never mind," Cas said quickly. He started to head inside, but she stopped him, putting her hand on his chest. "Don't try that evasive crap with me," Gail said harshly. "I repeat, what are you talking about?"

He looked down at her. "If this boy has no blood on his hands and I torture him, if I should ever perish, Death may elect to give me over to the Keeper of the Lake."

Gail was exasperated. "OK, Cas, I know the words you're speaking are all in English, but they don't make any sense. I don't understand what the hell you're talking about! What Keeper? What Lake?"

"Well, if you'd like, we can sit down and talk about it, but I thought you were eager to interrogate the prisoner," Cas said calmly.

Gail glared at him. "OK, Cas, you've made your point. I won't torture the innocent little puppy dog. We'll just let him go, so he can go down the road and kill a bunch of humans in Lucifer's name. And THEN we'll torture him."

Cas was alarmed by her look, and by her tone. What she wasn't saying was almost as disturbing as what she was saying. He reached out and cupped her face with his hand. "It's good to see you, my darling," he said, testing the waters.

"Well, I would have liked to have been seeing you under different circumstances," she groused. "Sam and Dean have a lot of nerve, going behind my back like that."

Cas frowned. Dean had been right. "Is that all you have to say to me?" he said softly. "I haven't seen you since your birthday. We didn't even get to spend our wedding anniversary together."

He was getting to her now, but she dug her heels in, metaphorically speaking, at least. "That's why I'm trying to do something about it, Cas. I've reached the end of my rope. I really have."

"Will you at least let me kiss you?" Cas said, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"No," she said. She took his hand away from her face. She held it in hers for a second, but then she let it drop. Then she sighed. "Will you at least come in for a minute and put the fear of God in this guy? That way, if we let him go, he just might behave himself, if he knows that the mighty Castiel will come after him if he doesn't."

Cas sighed, too. "OK, Gail. All right. But I have a better idea. I think you're right. I think it's time we escalate."

They both entered the cabin. Their three friends were all looking at them, saying nothing. But Corey's eyes widened as soon as he saw Cas. He knew who that guy was. Crap. He'd been shown a dossier of all the main players before they'd left the compound, and Corey knew that this was Castiel. He looked calm at the moment, but the Demons all told stories about how scary he was. He'd killed the crap out of many of them, torturing quite a few before dispatching them. And he knew what he was doing in that department, too. He could inflict agonizing wounds for hours if he chose to, without even breaking a sweat.

But Corey was sweating now, and he was sweating plenty. Cas approached him slowly, taking his blade out of his blazer's pocket, then shrugging the jacket off and tossing it on a chair. Then he began to roll his sleeves up to the elbow, turning his back on the young man. Cas gave his friends a wink. Then, Cas turned back to Corey and showed him the blade.

"You know who I am, right?" Cas said casually, staring at the boy.

"Yeah," Corey said. That was about all he could say; the fear was making his throat close up.

"Say my name," Cas said coolly.

Suddenly, a giggle started to bubble up in Gail's throat. She covered her mouth, changing it into a cough. Oh, my God. She didn't know if Cas had done that on purpose, but he wasn't playing fair now.

But young Corey was oblivious; he was far too terrified. "Castiel! Your name is Castiel!" he yelled.

"You disrespected my wife," Cas continued. "She asked you a simple question, one you refused to answer. You will give me the answer right now, or I will finish what she started, and I will take my time doing it."

God, he was good, Gail thought. She was almost scared of him herself now. She guessed that's what happened when you had a reputation centuries in the making. Corey broke. "But that's just it!" the youth wailed. "I don't know where the place is! I knew when I got there, but before we left, Lucifer put his hand on all of our heads, and now all I can think of is 'Narnia'."

Cas nearly smacked himself. Of course. Lucifer had modified all of their memories before they'd left, to protect the location from just this type of scenario. That had been a very smart move on Lucifer's part. No matter how much they were tortured, none of them would be able to reveal the compound's true location. He nodded, then stepped away from Corey's chair.

"Dean, I need to borrow your cell phone for a moment," Cas told his friend. As Dean came forward, handing it to him, Cas looked at Sam. "If I take a video on here, can you do a broadcast of it?"

"Do you mean a podcast?" Sam asked him.

"Yes, yes, whatever," Cas said impatiently.

Sam suppressed a grin. "Sure, Cas."

"Then, here. Take the phone," Cas instructed him. Then he extended his hand to Gail. "Please come here." She walked over to him and took his hand.

Cas looked at Sam and said, "Action." Both Dean and Bobby turned their heads at that, so the prisoner wouldn't see them smiling. Cas. He never changed. And thank God for that.

"We're sending out this message to Lucifer," Cas said, as Sam took the video. He gave Gail's hand a squeeze and raised her arm so that the video would make sure to capture the fact that they were holding hands. "We've been at this for nearly a year now, and you have accomplished exactly nothing. We are all still alive, and we are prepared to fight for as long as it takes. And this is the kind of sight you can expect to see if you continue with this folly." Cas drew Gail to one side and he motioned to Sam to get a close-up of Corey's bleeding face and terrified expression. Then the video recording ended.

Sam made a face. "Sorry, Cas. That's all the capacity this phone has."

"That's fine, Sam. I think we made our point," Cas said. Then he said, "Come with me, please," to Gail, and he led her outside again.

"And exactly what point was that, Cas?" she said wearily, as soon as they got outside.

"I wanted him to see that he has not torn us asunder," Cas said quietly. "And I'm hoping you can assure me that that's true."

Now her tears came, and Cas was relieved to see them. "Why would you say that, Cas? Why would you even think that?" Gail asked him. "Look, Cas, you may have had years of experience turning that persona on and off, but I haven't. That's all."

"Are you sure?" he asked her doubtfully.

"Yes, I'm sure, Cas." To reassure him, she put her arms around his waist, and she could feel him sigh and wrap his arms around her. Then she came out of the embrace and looked up at his face. "Is it wrong that I thought it was hot when you said for him to say your name?" she asked her husband mischievously.

Cas looked puzzled for a moment. "Is that what I said? I was in character. I just wanted to intimidate him."

"Well, it certainly worked," she told him, "but it worked in a little bit of a different way on me." Her lips were twitching.

Cas started to smile. She was teasing him now. Thank goodness. It had taken a lot longer to crack her facade this time, but she was finally herself now. "All the more reason for us to escalate the war," he teased her back. His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her intimately for a moment. It had been so long. He missed her in every way imaginable, but it occurred to him now that he had missed their intimate time together almost as much as he had missed being able to see her face or hold her hand.

"I'd better go," Cas told her, reluctantly breaking their kiss. "It's much too difficult being this close to you right now. Please tell me you still love me, before I go."

"Of course I still love you, Cas," Gail said softly. "You're my husband."

He smiled with relief, and then he winked himself away.

VIGNETTE - SWEETLY BROKEN

The dam broke on Christmas Eve Day, and it led to the beginning of the end.

Rob was inconsolable. Frank had finally caved just after Gail's birthday and begged Tommy to call their boy, and Tommy was already pressing the button for the Speed Dial before the words were even out of Frank's mouth. They had holed up in an abandoned factory and called the bunker, putting the phone on Speaker so they could all talk, and hear.

Barry was startled when he'd heard the landline ring. He didn't think he'd ever heard that before, and he'd been living here for ages. He hadn't even known there was a landline. He ran over to the control panel and took the phone out of its cubbyhole.

"Hi, hon. It's me," Tommy had said, and Barry's heart fell into his stomach. Oh, God. Somebody was dead. Who was dead? He asked Tommy, and Tommy assured him that nobody was dead, they had just needed to talk to their loved ones.

"What about Cas?" Barry had asked hesitantly.

"Screw him," Frank had said bluntly. "It's been way too long. We're family, Barry. We can't do this anymore."

So Barry had run to Rob's room to get him, and the two of them had taken turns talking to Frank's group. Then they'd said their goodbyes, with Frank promising to call as often as they could from then on, to keep the lines of communication open.

Rob had had about ten different emotions going on inside him then. Not that much different from any other day, once the adolescent hormones got going. But now, he could add happiness at hearing their voices, and hope that the call might have signified a change in the status quo.

But now here it was, Christmas Eve Day, and absolutely nothing had changed. Nothing. Now, hate was winning the horse race of emotions, and hope had been left in the dust long ago. Rob hated Lucifer for doing this to all of them, which was totally understandable, of course. Whenever he expressed this emotion to his Dad Barry and his Uncle Chuck, they gave him all the emotional support he needed, and then some. But Rob also had some other thoughts and emotions that remained unexpressed, because they were less politically correct. He hated his Uncle Cas for making them all go out there and fight. And he hated his Dads Frank and Tommy, too. They'd had that cell phone all this time, and they were only using it to call him now? Where the hell had they been all year? Why had they waited so long? Because Cas said so? Well, so what? Who cared? Cas wasn't Rob's Dad. He might be the boss of the Angels right now, but Rob and his parents - all of them - were human. Didn't he realize that Rob woke up every day, afraid that everybody was dead? Every single day. His Uncle Dean had been right all along. Angels WERE dicks. But Frank and Tommy and Jody were just as bad. Obviously, they didn't give a damn about Rob's feelings, either.

So it was Christmas Eve Day now, and Rob was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Barry had come in to see him a few minutes ago and told him that they were on the phone, but Rob had told him to go away. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. He was sure they would be calling to wish him a Merry Christmas, and if they were, he was gonna lose it. Yeah, Merry Effing Christmas. He and Barry and Chuck were going to sit here tonight and tomorrow like the world's most pathetic losers, and the two men were probably going to try to keep his spirits up however they could. Maybe they would even give him a couple of presents. Chuck could pop in and out, and Rob had heard him and Barry talking softly a few days ago. Then, Rob would have to smile and fake enthusiasm over a wrapped gift or two, when all he really wanted was a giant rewind to the way things had been last year at this time. He'd even take being that snot-nosed little rug rat who had been gullible enough to believe in Santa Claus again, just to have everybody back again, alive and happy.

As Rob lay on his bed choking back bitter tears, Barry was talking to Tommy. He'd asked his fiance to take the call off Speaker for a moment.

"I'm really worried about him," Barry said. "I don't know what to do, Tommy. He's so sullen and withdrawn. He hardly talks to me now. Even Chuck can't reach him anymore. And, right after the last time you guys called, I caught him guzzling from one of the whiskey bottles in the room where the bar is set up. I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing, and he said he was doing it in honour of his Uncle Dean. So I freaked out, because we know how he gets, sometimes. I thought maybe he was having a vision, or something. So I called Chuck on his cell, and he called Gail on Angel Radio, and Dean was fine. He was just fine, Tommy. So then I yelled at Rob for scaring me, and I've locked up all the bottles of booze in the weapons room cabinet now. I thought about punishing him, but really, what could I punish him WITH? And he was sick for a few days afterwards, anyway."

"Boy, does that sound familiar," Tommy said, shaking his head slowly. "Rob is me. I was around his age when I started behaving that way. And he has way better reasons than I did."

"I thought you might understand," Barry said warmly. Tommy had told him all about the struggles he'd had as a youth, and his and Rob's paths seemed almost identical at the moment.

Tommy had sighed. "Leave it with me, hon. I'm going to have to talk Frank off the metaphorical ledge first, before we have that talk, though. He was very upset when he found out that Rob wouldn't come to the phone. We're gonna have to do something, Barry. We're all at the end of the line here, and I'm sure you are, too. I love you, hon. Try to hang in there. We'll figure something out. And, Barry?"

"Yes, Tommy?" Barry asked softly. He was fighting tears, now.

"It wouldn't hurt to do some praying," Tommy said grimly. Then he hung up the phone.

As Frank and Tommy were having their heart-to-heart, Gail's team were approaching a quiet little cul-de-sac on the outskirts of Brussels. Sam had sat down a while back and calculated some kind of a pattern, which he'd called an algorithm, to predict where the death squads would show up next. Gail had shrugged and told him they'd try it out, and it had turned out to be amazingly accurate.

They were approaching the street with caution, but Gail feared they were already too late. The street was way too quiet. Then they heard a crashing sound in one of the houses, and they rushed over to it.

But there was no one there, only a cat that streaked past them, running outside as Dean slowly pushed the front door open. They moved silently through the house, but they were too late. There was a dead man in the living room on the floor, in front of the Christmas tree. Bobby and Sam moved on to the kitchen, where there was a dead woman on the floor in front of the stove. Sam reached over reflexively and turned the oven off. He looked towards the kitchen table and his heart sank. There was a high chair there.

Dean and Gail climbed the stairs to check for others. Once in a while, Lucifer's followers would get sloppy and leave some alive. They looked in the upstairs rooms, and in the last room at the end of the corridor was where they found the crib.

The blood was dripping down onto the floor as they entered the room, making a tip-tap sound on the hardwood floor. Gail froze in her tracks. No. No way. Not on Christmas Eve. Did she really have to deal with this on Christmas Eve? Did she really have to look?

Dean felt like he was going to throw up. He walked up to the crib, just to make sure, but there wasn't anything left of the baby to save. He turned away from the crib, and the rage he felt was so white-hot it felt like his head was going to explode.

"There was no reason - " he started to say, and then he lost his words. Gail moved forward, but he grabbed her, stopping her momentum. "Don't," he said shortly.

They stood there quietly for a moment, and then Dean let go of her and strode over to the dresser that stood at the other end of the room. "I guess they won't be needing this anymore," he said calmly. He upended it, and the drawers flew out, spilling clothes all over the floor. "Or this," he said, grabbing the lamp and throwing it against the wall.

"Dean - " Gail started to say, but he rushed back to where she was standing. "Call your husband," he said through gritted teeth.

Gail sighed. "What for, Dean? What do you expect him to do?"

"I'll tell you what I expect him to do," he said angrily. "He's gonna end this right now, or the next one to die is gonna be him. And if you think I'm joking, just try me."

Gail gave up. She placed the call to Cas, telling him that if he was free, he'd better come. Dean was losing it.

Cas showed up a few moments later, and he was covered in blood. Gail glared at Dean. Obviously, Cas had been in the middle of his own battle.

"I'm sorry to show up in this state, but you said it was urgent," Cas said to Gail.

"It is," Dean said. He grabbed Cas by the arm and hustled him over to the crib. "Look at that, and then tell me again what the hell it is we're doing out here!" Dean yelled.

Cas winced as he looked at the dead infant. He looked at Dean with sadness in his eyes. "I - I didn't expect them to - " Cas stammered.

"Well, they did, and this ends now," Dean said angrily. "So you and the wife do whatever you've gotta do to make that happen."

Cas sighed. "Where are Sam and Bobby?"

"They're downstairs," Gail said. "I'll go get them, and we'll meet you outside."

When they were all gathered in front of the house, Gail ran her hands over Cas to clean him of the blood. He gave her a brief smile of gratitude, and then he looked at his friends.

"I spent all morning this morning praying for guidance," Cas told them, and Bobby held up his hand.

"Ya know what, Cas? With all due respect, none of us give a damn," their older friend said. "And this is coming from somebody who used to be God. So you can stow all your righteous crap, Cas. Nobody cares. Dean's right. This has to end. Now."

"I agree, and that's what I'm trying to tell you," Cas said earnestly. "Listen to my story. Please."

Castiel had spent all morning praying. The guilt was like a two-ton stone on his chest, growing heavier with each hour.

His group hadn't seen a death squad in weeks. It was odd, really. There seemed to be no let-up where Frank's and Gail's teams were, yet Cas and his young charges had been left alone. It was very suspicious. Was Lucifer concentrating his forces on the others now just to torment Castiel? Cas worried about them all, every moment of every day. If that was truly the case, Lucifer knew his Brother very well. If Cas was fighting and killing, he was in control of the situation, at least as far as his own team was concerned. But the serenity was making him uneasy, and his feelings of guilt were growing. Why should he have gotten off so easily? Traipsing around Africa, performing miracles, helping the poor and being worshipped by them as some sort of deity, while his loved ones were risking their lives daily battling Lucifer's death squads? Why was Lucifer leaving him alone?

Then, as Christmas Eve morning dawned, Castiel finally got it: Lucifer was setting him up. He was leaving Castiel alone, letting him bask in the worship of his acolytes, so that Cas would grow to like it. And, he had. He had become complacent and self-indulgent. He had become the epitome of selfishness, the Castiel that Lucifer had always accused him of being.

So he had prayed and prayed, begging his Father for guidance. This had to end. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day. They had been out here in the field for a year now. An entire year. It was a miracle that they were all still alive, but countless humans were dead. And what had been the point of it all? How much blood did his Father need?

Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder, and Castiel turned around, startled.

"You'd better wrap this up," Gabriel said. "It's getting ridiculous."

Cas's jaw dropped. "What are you doing here?" he said in a hushed tone.

"Giving you the kick in the pants you obviously need," Gabriel told him. He moved closer, staring Cas in the eye. "Barry has nightmares every night, and Robbie, who only answers to 'Rob' now, is about two steps away from climbing a tower with a rifle and just letting loose. Chuck sits moping in the library, waiting for the call that will inform him that one of you is finally dead. Meanwhile, Kevin agonizes over his decision to let his team sleep that night. He's sure that Matt and the others would be alive to this day if he hadn't made the wrong call. Tommy is brewing up a big, juicy ulcer in his stomach, and Frank's hair is getting greyer. He cries a lot of nights. He thinks that Jody doesn't know. She does, but she has no idea what to say to him anymore. Bobby is slowly drinking himself to death, and he's been doing something else he shouldn't. But I'll let him tell you about that. Sam and Dean are arguing way more than they should, and even though I, myself, find that hilarious, if you care about their brotherly relationship, it's gonna take a while to repair if this goes on any longer. Oh, and our little Kitten? The sweet little wife you hosted Christmas with a year ago? I'm a little pissed off you didn't save me a leg, by the way, but we'll talk about that another time. Anyway, Gail is about two short steps away from pulling up a chair beside Crowley and elbowing him out of the way. So if you want her wings to stay white, you'd better take the fight to Lucifer, Cas. Unless you'd rather lose everyone you love and just stay here, acting like our Lord and Saviour."

Cas had stared at his Brother, thunderstruck. He'd had no idea that things had gotten as bad as all that. But, why should they not have? And what exactly was Cas doing about it? Nothing. Sitting here acting like the Lord and Saviour, that was what.

"Close your mouth and get over yourself," Gabriel said harshly. "Don't act so surprised. You knew everything I've been saying, you just closed your mind to it and turned a blind eye, 'cause you didn't want to see, There is none so blind, and all that crap. You picked one hell of a time to go flaccid, Cas. Gail is mad as hell at you right now."

"Of course she is," Cas murmured. "I set her on that path, and then I abandoned her."

"No duh," Gabriel said sarcastically. "But I'm not even talking about that particular elephant. I'm talking about the fact that she's angry at you for making her let that kid go. Corey, right? Yeah, she doesn't sit around at night picturing you like a lovestruck schoolgirl any more. She sits there stewing about the one that got away, and she'd vowing to herself that won't happen again. The next time she gets one, she's not gonna tell anybody. She's just gonna chain them up and torture the crap out of them. Man, woman or child, guilty or innocent, she doesn't care anymore. She'll do it, Cas, and then she'll be damned. But that's OK, right? You can have some of your African women feed you grapes and massage your feet, and tell you how great you are, while your wife descends into the pit of Hell."

"Shut up!" Cas shouted. "Don't you ever shut up? I don't want to hear any more!"

"Too bad," Gabriel retorted. "I'm gonna keep talking, until you nut up and take charge. You know what you have to do now. Fix yourself and fix your wife. Take the fight to Lucifer, and everything else will shake out eventually. But you're running out of time, Cas. Quit dancing to Lucifer's tune. Sing one of your own. OK, I've gotta go, Brother. I've got a few spinning plates, myself. Merry Christmas, Castiel. Make it happen. Oh, and next year, I get a drumstick."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and disappeared as Cas sat there, dazed. Had that even been real?

But it didn't matter, not really. Whether Gabriel had actually been here or not, his Brother had been right. It was time to take action. So he had gone back into the house where he and his young team of Angels were living and told them he had some things he had to do, and then he had winked himself away.

Cas had to fix himself, Gabriel had said. The thing was, he wasn't really broken. But his priorities were, and that was what he had to address. So he'd popped over to a store near his and Gail's house, then made a brief visit to their home. Then, he went to see Quinn on a fact-finding mission. When he'd left the place, he'd known what he had to do. Then he popped back to Africa and got himself bloody, and then, Gail's emergency call had come through before he'd had the chance to clean himself up.

Gabriel had also said that Cas had to fix Gail, and as soon as he had laid eyes on her in that bloody nursery, he had realized just how broken she truly was. Dean, Sam and Bobby were agonized and angry, while Gail displayed absolutely no emotion. None at all. There she stood, inches away from the battered and bleeding corpse of an infant, and her eyes were flat, and her face was expressionless. Gabriel had been right. Gail was so badly damaged that Cas would have to rebuild her. And in order to do that, he would have to break her, first.

Cas grabbed her by the hand. "Excuse us for a moment," he said to Sam, Dean and Bobby, pulling her away from the group. "What's the matter with you?" he asked her in a harsh voice.

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. He was kidding with this, right? "Oh, nothing," she said sarcastically. "What could possibly be wrong?"

"How about an innocent child, reduced to blood and bones on Christmas Eve?" Cas said bluntly.

"You guys should have listened to me," Gail said defiantly. "If I'd been allowed to torture the information out of that kid, this might have been avoided."

"Is that all you have to say about that poor infant being pulverized?" Cas asked her, astonished. Gabriel had said that she was bad now, but a part of Cas had refused to believe that she was THIS bad. "Remember when we first met, when you thought that you had killed a child for Crowley? You were suicidal, then."

"Things change," Gail said shortly. "I'm sick of being a pussy. Lucifer has had it his way for entirely too long. If you're not willing to do anything about it, I will."

"Is it true that you're planning on torturing another human?" he asked her.

"So what if I am?" she countered. "So what? It would be ridiculous for someone like you to lecture me about torture, wouldn't it?"

Castiel was silent. He hated to admit it, but she kind of had him, there. He tried another tactic: "Frank's hair is getting greyer."

That got her attention. "Have you seen him? How's he doing?" she asked Cas, with a touch of concern in her voice that he was glad to hear.

But he held his tone for now. "Aging," he said shortly.

She appeared to wince, but then she gave a half-shrug. "Yeah, well...it's been a very tough year for all of us," she said, with no inflection in her voice.

Cas sighed. She was really far gone now. But he wasn't about to give up. She needed him now, more than she ever had before. He waved his hand, conjuring up a large bouquet of flowers.

Gail stared at him. Has he lost his mind? She supposed it was sweet, but he might as well not have bothered. It would be a little impractical for her to carry those into battle, like some kind of Hallowe'en version of Miss America, or something. She told him this now.

Cas supposed she was being humourous, but there was a bitter edge to her voice that he didn't like. "The flowers aren't for you," he told her. "They're for where you and I are going now."

He winked them away from there, and then they were standing in a graveyard. Cas nodded towards the headstone. "Go ahead and lay those flowers on Henri's grave, and tell him you've given up hope. Tell him that Dean wants to quit. Henri, who put everything he had on the line to do what was right. You're hurting him right now, Gail, and you're insulting his memory."

He could see the hurt in her eyes, and he could also see the anger. Cas put the flowers in Gail's arms and she knelt by Henri's grave and placed the flowers on it. She said nothing, just bowed her head, but Cas was glad to see that she put her fingers to her lips and kissed them, then touched them to the headstone.

After a moment, Gail got up and faced her husband. "Let's go to the other side of the cemetery," Cas said softly. "I don't want Henri to have to witness our argument."

He took her hand and winked her outside the cemetery grounds, smiling faintly. But as soon as they were outside the fence, Gail dropped his hand.

"So, now comes the point where you give me a lecture," Gail said, rolling her eyes. "Well, get on with it, then. We're wasting time now."

Cas shook his head. "No, you've got that backwards. It's YOU who will be giving ME the lecture. I want to hear you tell me that you hate me."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What?!"

"You heard me," Cas said calmly. "You need to express your anger, or it will eat you alive. Believe me, I know all about that. You need to get angry with me, Gail. Only then can we begin to move forward. Tell me you hate me."

"I'm not going to say that to you, Cas," Gail told him.

"Why not?" he said mildly. "It's how you truly feel, isn't it?"

"No," she said shortly.

"No?" he persisted. "Even if I tell you that I've been living in a nice house, with running water and an indoor washroom?"

She gave him a half-shrug. "Well, even if you don't use all the facilities, I'm glad you have a roof over your head, and a place to wash up. We don't, half the time."

"There's more," Cas continued. "We haven't seen any death squads in weeks."

"Really? Isn't that nice," Gail said in a cool tone.

"Yes, it is," Cas said casually. "It's very serene. I've gotten to help so many people, Gail. Their crops are the most abundant they've been in years, and there is very little disease, because I've been able to provide them with fresh rainwater whenever they've needed it. I've also been able to help them raise their livestock, because of my background as a shepherd."

Now she was starting to get angry. Which was the point, of course. "Do you mean to tell me that, while we've been out there busting our asses, having life-and-death struggles every day, you've been over there, FARMING?"

Cas nodded. "Yes, and performing miracles, too. The people there are poor, but they're also extremely devoted. They held a lottery to decide which family would have the privilege of giving up their home to enable my team to stay there. They worship me there, Gail. It's like I have my own church there, or something."

"OK, that does it!" Gail yelled at him. "I don't know if you're exaggerating just to make me mad, but if even half of what you're saying is true, you've got your nerve! How DARE you? How could you do that to us, Cas? How could you abandon us like that? Why? Just because you enjoy playing God to those people? Well, I've got a news flash for you: you're NOT God, Cas. You're..."

"I'm what?" he prompted her.

"You're a selfish bastard!" she shot back.

"And you hate me, don't you?" he continued, almost happily.

"Yes! Yes, I hate you!" she shouted. Then she clapped both hands over her mouth. Oh, my God. She did. She hated him.

Cas went to put his arms around her, but she was struggling now. No, she didn't want to receive his comfort. She'd just screamed at him that she hated him, and a part of her actually did hate him right now. But she loved him, too. She knew what he'd been trying to do. She had so many walls built around her now that he'd had to take a sledgehammer to them to get her to show any emotion.

"I DO hate you, Cas," Gail said, starting to cry. "I hate you for making me say that I hate you."

Incredibly, he smiled. "So, you DO still love me."

Anyone who had come upon them at this point in the conversation would have thought that the couple was crazy, that they were speaking nonsense. But what Cas had just said made perfect sense to Gail. "Of course I do, sweetie," she said. "I could never hate you. I was just mad."

"And so you should be," Cas told her softly. "I sinned in Pride, and I sinned in Sloth, and if I ate, I'm sure I would have sinned in Gluttony, as well. I became complacent, and self-satisfied. I was so happy to be helping people for a change, instead of taking up arms, that I justified what I was doing in the name of charity, or kindness. But what I was actually doing was taking the easy path. I'm not going to ask you for your forgiveness, because what I did was unforgiveable. The only thing I want at this point is to make sure that what I did to you, to all of you, didn't cause irreparable damage. Please tell me it's not too late to fix this, Gail. Please."

She stared into his eyes. Her tears had dried up for the time being, but now that there was a crack in the dam, she was sure there would be plenty more to follow. Now she was angry at him for that, too. She'd had a good thing going on there, for a while. Never having to feel meant never having to hurt.

Damn, Cas was good. She could see the pain and sadness in his eyes. Now, he was making HER feel sorry for HIM. How the hell did he DO that? "I don't know, Cas," Gail said noncommittally. "I can't speak for everyone, you know."

He took her hand. She let him hold it, but she made no move to respond. "Right now, I'm only concerned with you," Cas said softly. "I know it may be hard to believe at the moment, but I still place you above all others. You're the most important person to me, Gail. As long as you're all right, we can work together to make sure everyone else is all right."

She thought that over. Could she be all right again? She really, really wanted to be all right again. And, what about everyone else? Dean was angry all the time now, he and Sam were always fighting, and Bobby was drinking himself to death. Frank's hair was going grey, and the last time she'd seen him, his face looked like he'd aged about five years. And how must everybody else be feeling?

"OK, Cas, I'm on board," she told him. "I'll work with you to put Humpty back together again. But, how do we even start to do that?"

"We start at the beginning," he said simply. "Tonight is Christmas Eve. We'll gather everyone together for Christmas, just as we did one year ago. We'll share fellowship with one another, we'll reconnect, and then I'll do what I should have done in the first place."

"And what's that, Cas?" Gail asked curiously.

"We'll get there when we get there," he answered vaguely. "Do you still trust me?"

"Yes, of course I do," she sighed.

"And do you still love me?" Cas asked her hopefully.

Gail sighed again. "Yes, I do, Cas. Of course I do."

"Good," he said, nodding. But it seemed as if he was saying it more to himself than to her. "Good," he repeated. He felt lightheaded with relief. "Then the healing has begun."

He held her hand tighter, and then he winked them back to her group.


	3. Crumbs From Your Table

Chapter 3 - Crumbs From Your Table

They appeared to where Sam, Dean and Bobby still stood, waiting for them. The men had been talking quietly amongst themselves. They'd seen Cas take off with her, and now they noticed that Gail had been crying. To them, that was a good sign.

"This ends now," Cas said without preliminary. "We're going to take you to my team in Africa. Then we're going to get Frank's team and bring them to the bunker to reunite with Robbie and Barry, and if Chuck's there, we'll bring him too, or we'll call him to come. We'll all spend Christmas together, and we'll have a meeting. We're going to fix ourselves, and then we're going to fix the situation. Agreed?"

"Abso-freakin'-lutely," Dean said, sighing with relief. It was about damn time.

Sam broke out in an all-too-rare grin. "Christmas in Africa? That'll be different."

Cas smiled wearily. "I had planned to surprise you all. The people there have been working non-stop for weeks now to make a nice Christmas celebration for us all. My team and I have been staying in one of the larger houses just outside town, and we'll all gather there for the feast."

"Does this place have indoor plumbing?" Bobby asked him.

"Yes, Bobby, it's got all of the modern conveniences," Cas replied.

"I'm in," Bobby said quickly. "Dibs on the shower."

"Wow. Indoor plumbing. It's been way too long," Sam said wistfully.

"THAT'S what you're looking forward to the most?" Gail asked him, eyebrows raised.

"What can we say? We're guys," Sam responded, smiling again. "We're pretty simple."

"Yeah, a shave, a shower and a - " Dean started to say, and then he checked himself. "Well, you know what I mean. Maybe not you Angels, but...Frank'll know. I can't wait to fight him for the bathroom."

Cas smiled once more. They were already starting to talk like themselves. He gave Gail's hand a squeeze, and his heart leapt when she gave him one in return. A faint smile was playing on her lips now, too. How wonderful it would be to have everyone back together again.

They all joined hands, and the Angels winked them to Africa.

"Merry Christmas, Pookie," Gail said, when she and Cas showed up to where Frank's team were. Cas had called Kevin on Angel Radio to find out where they were, but he'd told Kevin not to spoil the surprise.

Frank whirled around, and his face broke into a tired-looking smile. "Lucky it's you, and lucky it's Christmas," he told his sister. "I'll let that go, today."

The two of them embraced, and Gail buried her head in Frank's chest for a moment. She was glad he couldn't see her shocked expression. He looked like he'd aged a couple more years since she'd seen him on her birthday.

Cas told them about the Christmas plan. "We have one more stop to make on the way, though," Cas told them. They all joined hands, and he winked them straight into the library area of the bunker.

Barry was sitting at the library table, picking at his dinner and nursing a drink. He'd tried to make a nice dinner for himself and Rob, but the boy had eaten quickly and then retired to his bedroom, presumably to mope, and Barry had decided to just let him be. It was Christmas Eve, after all. What did he expect? Of course Rob would be miserable. So was Barry.

So when the group appeared in front of him, Barry was slow to react. He'd probably nodded off, and this was one of his dreams.

But then, when Tommy rushed over to Barry and pulled him to his feet, Barry realized: they were really here. The two men embraced, and both of them started to cry.

"Where's Robbie?" Frank said, looking around.

Barry nodded towards the corridor, unable to speak at the moment. Frank grabbed Jody's hand, and they rushed down the hallway.

Cas called Chuck on Angel Radio, and an instant later, Chuck popped in. "Merry Christmas, Chuck," Gail said to him, and he pulled her in for a hug. "How are you?" Chuck asked her. "How is everyone?"

While they were talking, and Barry and Tommy were hugging and kissing, Frank opened the door of Rob's room. "Hey," Gail's brother said to the boy, trying to be casual. He'd been advised by Cas that Robbie, who now wanted to be called Rob, might be a little standoffish. They would definitely have some issues to work out, going forward. "OK if your Mom and I come in?"

Rob's heart stopped. Like Barry, he thought he'd fallen asleep. He'd had this particular dream a lot. He sat up. "I guess so," Rob said casually, "since you already opened the door."

OK, not exactly the effusive welcome they had been hoping for, Frank and Jody thought, looking at each other. Still, at least he was speaking to them.

They entered the room, and Jody sat down on the bed, taking Rob's hand in hers. "I'm so sorry," she said to him. "I'm sorry we've been away for so long."

Rob was staring at both of them. Now he knew that this wasn't a dream. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head a thousand times. He continued to stare at Frank. His hair was going grey. It was going grey! How long had they been gone, anyway?

There were so many things Rob considered saying at this moment, but what came out was: "Is Lucifer dead?"

"No," Jody said softly. "We came here to spend Christmas with you."

Rob nodded. He should have figured it was too good to be true. "Oh. OK," he said. "So you came here for a meal, maybe a beer or two, and then you'll be going back out. I think Barry's still got some beef bourgi-whatever on the stove. Have a good dinner. Drop by on your way back out. Or, don't. Whatever."

Frank's heart sank. Rob had the same tough facade as Gail had built for herself over the past year. He didn't know all of the details with regard to his sister, but Frank knew Gail well enough to read between the lines. She seemed a little better right now, but she still wasn't the Gail he knew. Her stress had manifested itself in the persona of an emotionless, bloodthirsty robot. Frank's stress was manifesting itself in his appearance. There hadn't been too many vanity mirrors on the battlefield, but Frank was aware that he had aged, both emotionally and physically. And Rob was a teenager now. It was only natural that he should be sullen and withdrawn to a certain extent, anyway, even outside of the situation they'd all found themselves in.

But Frank was still the father figure here, so he supposed he'd better act like it. "Look, 'Rob'," he said sternly, "I understand how you feel, but you'll talk to your mother, and me, with respect."

"You understand nothing," Rob scoffed.

"Oh, is that right?" Frank retorted. He was trying to keep a lid on his temper now. "Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't know a thing about being a teenager with no parents. Oh, wait. Yes, I would. But, unlike you, I didn't have a home, and I didn't have a dozen adults falling all over themselves to make the world a better place for me and competing to show who loves me the most. And your Aunt Gail and I weren't nice and safe and warm, with all the comforts of home, we were out there on the run, scraping by from meal to meal, with Demons on our tail. So tell me again how hard your life is, 'Rob'."

Jody put her hand on her husband's arm. "All right, Frank. I think you've made your point. Now, cool your jets. It's Christmas."

"You know what, Jody? You're right," Frank said. "It's Christmas. So I'm gonna go get a beer." He looked at Rob. "I'll be in the library, when you're ready to apologize." Then he turned and left the room.

Jody sighed, and Rob looked at her, frowning. "Are you gonna yell at me, too?"

"No," Jody replied. "But I will tell you that I need for you to cut him some slack. He's had a very tough year. We all have."

"His hair is grey, and he's got more wrinkles," Rob blurted out.

A faint smile came to Jody's lips. "I'm sure I do, too. But you'd better not agree. I don't care if you are a teenager now, I used to be a cop. That means I'm an expert when it comes to punishments."

Rob's lips twitched. "Hey, I may be young, but I know better than to talk to a woman about the aging process," he quipped.

She gave him a genuine smile now, and Rob answered with one of his own. "You're wise beyond your years, and between you and me, you're also more mature than most of your Uncles," Jody told him. "Now give me a hug and then let's go see everybody."

Rob looked at her for a moment. He was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing everyone again, but he wasn't sure he wanted to go all in just yet. This time last year, they'd had the best, most fun Christmas ever, and then they'd all left him, for a year. A whole year! And after all that time, what had they accomplished? Lucifer was still alive, wasn't he?

But the lure of Christmas with his family was just too strong. He put his arms around Jody's neck, and she hugged him to her. Her eyes misted over with tears. He had gotten so big.

Rob clung to her for a minute, and then he said, "Merry Christmas, Mom. OK, let's go. I'm hungry."

Jody pulled out of the embrace, smiling again. "You know what? So am I, for the first time in a long time."

Rob got off the bed and extended his hand to her. "Then let me take you to dinner, Mom," he said, smiling charmingly.

Jody felt like she was going to cry again, but she swallowed her tears, and took his hand.

When they got to the house where Cas and his team had been staying, everyone was amazed. It was a lot nicer of a home than anyone had expected, considering how poor these people were supposed to be. But then, Cas explained that the father of the family that lived here had done the vast majority of the work on the home himself, and that the house normally had upwards of 20 occupants living in it. People of all ages, all parts of one extended family. Those people were all currently bedding down in the basement of the local church, having volunteered to vacate their home long enough for Cas and his people to have a place big enough for them all to stay in, to celebrate Christmas.

Sam and Dean and Bobby were already there, and they were clean and groomed now. The townspeople had been bustling in and out of the house, bringing food and fresh clothing for the new arrivals. They'd brought both traditional robes and blue jeans and shirts in various sizes for the men and women, but when they'd gotten a look at Sam, they'd thrown up their hands in surrender. Even the trees in the jungle weren't that tall, they'd remarked, and when one of the men had translated that for Dean, he'd laughed so hard that tears had fallen down his cheeks.

So Sam was in an African tribal robe at the moment, but his legs were bare, and he was self-conscious. Bobby and Dean had been making way too many cracks about his white, skinny stork legs. So when the rest of them got there, Sam pulled Cas aside and asked him quietly if he could please get Sam a pair of jeans from the bunker, so he didn't have to listen to the comments from those guys any more. Cas had popped out again, but Frank stood there looking at Sam now, and the younger Winchester braced himself.

"Wow, the last time I saw legs like that, we were at the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas," Gail wisecracked, and her brother said, "Up top." They high-fived smartly, and then Frank said, "I'm partly impressed by my little sister and partly pissed off, because I don't have anything better to offer right now."

Cas popped back in with a pair of jeans from Sam's closet, and Sam sighed with relief, taking them from him. "Oh, thank God," he sighed. "Now I won't have to worry about the Pookster coming up with something better."

He left the room to change as they all laughed. Cas put his arm around Gail's waist, and her eyes pooled with tears. The sound of everyone laughing together like that was something she had honestly thought she might never hear again.

Cas was looking at her, and his heart melted. He needed for things to be all right between them again. It seemed as if things had gotten better already, but he knew that there would be more work to be done in that regard. "Would you like to take a shower and wash your hair?" Cas asked his wife. She looked up at him and smiled. "Out of all of the things you could have said to me right now, I think that's the most beautiful phrase I could have heard," Gail told him.

"Excuse us a moment," Cas said to the group. "Feel free to relax in the living room area and help yourselves to the snacks that these kind people are providing for us." He nodded toward a couple of local women, who were entering the house laden with trays of fruit and baked goods. "Please take those into the living room," Cas asked the women politely. Incredibly, they genuflected, then did as he had requested.

"Oh - my - God," Frank said, starting to grin. "So many jokes, so little time."

Cas grabbed Gail's hand and led her out of the room before her brother could open his mouth again. This was only a stall tactic on his part; he had no doubt that there would be plenty to be said on the subject later. But right now, Cas's priority was Gail, and her comfort. He was sure that she would be much happier when she'd had the chance to have a real shower. He could only imagine how long it had been for her. He always felt much better when he was scrubbed clean.

Cas led her to the master suite in the back of the house, and he winced internally, bracing for her reaction. Sure enough, she looked around in disbelief. "Don't tell me, let me guess: this is your room," she said in an expressionless voice.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Wow," she said softly. She turned around to look at him, and now she was frowning. "Will you be needing me to genuflect too, or can I just go ahead and use the Holy Anointed bathroom?" she said sarcastically. "Maybe you can baptize me, while I'm in there."

Cas looked at her miserably. "I know how this looks, Gail."

"Do you?" she said coolly.

"Yes, I do," he replied. "I never asked for any of this. I told them not to follow me around, but they did it anyway. I told them not to worship me, but they do it, anyway."

Gail was nodding. "Yes, and it made you so uncomfortable that you just had to leave Africa immediately, and take up arms with us. Oh, wait. That never happened, did it?" she said bitterly.

"No, it didn't," Cas said soberly. "Instead, I became complacent, and prideful. I abandoned you, when you needed me the most."

Gail stared at him. "Well, at least you're being honest about it."

"How could I be otherwise?" Cas said sadly. "Everything you say is true, and it's no more than I deserve."

"You know, you take all the fun out of being mad at you when you do that," she quipped, but her expression remained serious.

Cas looked closely at her. Was she still angry? It was hard to tell.

She was, but she was looking wistfully at the bathroom now. Gail couldn't remember the last time she'd had a proper shower. She walked towards the bathroom, then stopped and turned around.

"I have no clean clothes," she told him.

"Let me take care of that," Cas said quickly. "If you're OK with it, I saw a beautiful African outfit that one of the women brought in. The people here would consider it a big honour if you wore it. I will change into robes, as well. It will make our hosts very happy."

Gail thought about that for a moment. Whatever residual resentments she might have towards Cas for the cushy setup he had going here, she realized she shouldn't take them out on the townspeople. They were being extremely hospitable. This family had given over their home to a bunch of strangers, and Cas had said they'd been excitedly planning the Christmas feast for weeks. This was obviously a huge deal for them.

"OK, Cas," she said. "If you go get the outfit and put it on the bed, I'll wear it."

"Thank you, my love," he said, kissing her on the forehead. Then he left the room.

A while later, Gail came into the living room area wearing her African dress, and the townspeople who were there all smiled widely when they saw her. Cas had changed into his robes, as he had promised. He jumped off the couch and went to her, taking her hand.

"This is my wife, Gail," he said to the villagers. One of the men murmured, "Nzuri malkia," and he bowed to Gail. Then the rest of the African people either bowed or curtsied.

Cas was smiling, and Gail looked up at him. "Do you know what he said?" she asked him.

"He called you 'beautiful queen', in Swahili," Cas told her delightedly. "And I couldn't agree more."

"Thank you," Gail said to the townspeople, trying not to make a face. They were still bowing, and now, some were genuflecting. They were all staring silently at her, and she was starting to feel really weird about it. So she gave them a kind of half-nod and then let go of Cas's hand, walking over to the living room.

Cas followed a couple of minutes later, and he sat down beside Gail on the couch. He looked around at all of their family and friends. "I asked the local people to leave us alone for a little while, so we can talk in private," Cas told them. "First of all, I just want to say how very, very happy I am that we're all together again at Christmastime. The people you've seen here are local farmers and villagers, who have worked very hard to make a nice Christmas for us. Despite what you have seen here in this house, the locals are extremely poor, but Christmas is very important to them, and they are very generous with what little they have."

He looked at Gail. "I have another confession to make. I know that when I appeared to you covered in blood, you thought it was from a battle. But it was really animal blood I had on me. I was helping the farmers slaughter some of their farm animals in preparation for the Christmas feast. That represents a huge sacrifice for them, but it meant so much to them to have my family here for Christmas that I didn't have the heart to refuse. I have told them that we will be leaving here after the feast tomorrow, to go back to the States. All of us, together. No more death squads, no more killing. We're not going to dance to Lucifer's tune any more. We're going to stay together, we're going to heal, and I'm going to take action. But for now, I'm hoping we can all agree to enjoy the wonderful hospitality these people are offering us. There are plenty of beds and couches throughout the house for us to rest on, and the meal tomorrow will be spectacular. We'll be dining on roasted goat, and in deference to my American friends, turkey."

"Goat?" Dean said, looking uncertain.

"Yes, Dean," Cas said patiently. "It's very good. You'll see."

"Will there be any fufu, Cas?" Tommy asked him.

Cas's eyebrows raised. "How do you know about that, Tommy?" he asked his friend.

Tommy smiled. "Hey, I used to be a globe-trotting reporter, remember?" He looked at the others. "For those of you that need clarification, and based on the looks on your faces, I guess that would be everyone, fufu is boiled yams. You roll them up with your hands into balls, sort of like dough, and dip them in stew. It's a bit of an acquired taste, but if you like yams, you've got to try it. The stew's a bit spicy, but it's good, too."

"There will also be rice, beef, and homemade biscuits," Cas added.

"Sounds good," Sam said.

"No kidding," Frank agreed enthusiastically. "It's been ages since we've had a home-cooked meal. I can't wait."

"I do want to tell you a few more things about these people and their traditions, in order to prepare you," Cas told his friends. "In many aspects, the way they celebrate Christmas here is superior to the way we do it in America. Here, there is more emphasis on the religious connotation than the commercial one. The most common gift here is a new set of clothes that can be worn to the church service. Especially in rural areas, like where we are now, few people can afford frivolous gifts such as toys. And in any case, even if they could afford them, there are very few places to buy anything like that here. Any gifts exchanged between family or friends tend to be practical ones, i.e. school books, soap, cloth, or candles."

"That would really suck," Rob said suddenly.

Castiel looked at him coolly. "That is because you are looking at things from the viewpoint of privilege," he told the boy. "Anything you desire is provided for you. Computer, TV, video games. You come from the culture of conspicuous consumption. You'll notice that there are no electronic devices in this house. When the members of the family that live in this house are fortunate enough to be together, they congregate here in the family room and talk, just as we are doing now."

Rob fell silent. He guessed he could understand what Cas was saying. Cas was right, to a certain extent, but he was also very wrong. Did he think that Rob wouldn't take all the video games and devices he owned and burn them on the back lawn of the bunker if it would mean that he could get the past year with his family back? But he held his tongue for the moment. Cas was talking again.

"Tonight, and again tomorrow, the people here will go to church, act out a nativity scene, and sing carols, all traditions that you'll be familiar with," Cas went on. "But also, tonight being Christmas Eve, there will be processions in the streets where the townspeople will carry large, intricately made lanterns, called fanals. I guess that would be the equivalent of the Macy's parade," he added with a gentle smile. "But, it will be much more serene."

"I think we could all use a little serenity, after the year we've just had," Jody remarked.

There it was. The elephant. At least, the biggest one, anyway. But Cas didn't want to deal with the elephant right now. That would be one persistent pachyderm, he was sure, but he was determined to give his family a peaceful Christmas, at the very least. He owed it to all of them. So he spoke again, blurting out: "When the townspeople are let back into this house, they will decorate it with candles and bells, and they're even going to sprinkle some fake snow outside, to make us feel at home." He put his arms around Gail and gave her a squeeze. "I told them the Queen likes snow."

Gail smiled faintly, but she didn't return his show of affection. It felt too soon for her. This was all so strange. She wasn't the Queen of anything, and if any of the townspeople tried to genuflect in front of her again, she might have to start an international incident.

"And lastly, the greeting we use will be very similar to our own: 'Merry Kisimusi'," Cas concluded.

"'Kissy-musi'," Frank repeated. "Sounds like - " He cut himself off. He'd been about to say that it sounded like something that Cas and Gail would be doing a lot of, but he'd stopped himself at the last minute. Things seemed a little frosty between the couple at the moment. Frank knew why, of course. Gail was pissed as hell at Cas for living here like some kind of Lion King or something while the rest of them had been living rough, wading ankle-deep in blood. Frank would be pissed as hell too, if he weren't just so damn glad to have the whole bunch of them back together again. Besides, Cas would suffer a lot more with Gail giving him the cold shoulder than if anyone else were to express their anger at their Angel friend. Frank wouldn't mind if Cas did suffer a little bit, though. They'd all been suffering plenty out there, hadn't they? Frank didn't see any grey hair or extra wrinkles on his brother-in-law's face, did he? But then again, on the other hand, Frank realized that Cas had only done what he'd felt he needed to do at the time. A General had to take charge and deploy his troops in a manner he thought would be of the greatest benefit. The death squads were killing innocent people; therefore, it stood to reason that they'd had to kill the death squads, either to prevent the killings, or in retaliation, if they'd been too late. But none of them had expected the war to go on quite this long. Deep down, they'd all thought, since Good was supposed to triumph over Evil, that they'd been fighting for a noble cause. Matty and his friends had died for that cause. But they were no closer now to ending Lucifer than they'd been then, and Cas had finally had to admit that his strategy had been a failure.

"Sounds like what?" Sam asked Frank, breaking Gail's brother out of his reverie.

"What?" Frank said.

"Exactly," Sam said in return.

"Before you two go all Abbott and Costello on us, I have something to say," Bobby announced to the group. "Now that we're all back together and cleaned up, I think we should start our Christmas off right." He looked at Cas. "Let those folks come in and let them know we'll all be going to church with them. Then we'll all have something to eat, then we'll get a good night's sleep - " He looked at the Angels - "Well, some of us will, anyway. And then we're gonna wake up tomorrow and give thanks that we're all still alive, and at the risk of sounding maudlin, our gift is gonna be that, and the fact that we're all here together like this. That sound all right to you, Rob?" he said pointedly, looking at the boy.

"Yes, Sir," Rob said in a subdued tone. When Rob had first met Bobby, the older man had been God, and even though he was pretty far from it now, Bobby still had that air of authority. Sam and Dean looked at each other, grinning. They recognized that authoritative tone, having been the recipients of it so many times themselves. Now, apparently, a whole new generation would get the benefit of Bobby's homespun wisdom and lectures too, and they would get to sit back and watch. Sweet.

"What are you two idjits grinning for?" Bobby growled at the brothers. "If you've got any pit stops to make, make 'em now. You mooks need to be presentable for church."

"Yeah, especially since we're going with the Guest of Honour," Frank wisecracked, nodding to Cas. "Have they built any statues of you yet, or should I start the sculpting now?"

Cas gave his brother-in-law a tight smile. He'd known that Frank would have to make jokes about the situation because that was who Frank was. But it was an awkward situation. The more jokes that were made about it, the more that the spotlight would be cast upon Castiel and his Sins. But, on the other hand, a little lighthearted humour might just be in order, here. Perhaps Frank could get his sister to join in. Her mouth still tightened any time Cas's perceived exalted status with these people was even alluded to.

But Gail said nothing, and when Cas rose from the couch and extended his hand to her, she also rose, but she did not take it. Cas sighed. It was going to take some time.

"Let's go to church," he said to everyone.

But as they all trooped towards the front door of the house, there was a surprise in store for them there. When Cas opened the front door, there were two large, muscular farmers there, holding a third man by his arms.

"I didn't know the Promised Land had bouncers," Paul quipped. "Can you get my brothers here to let me go, Castiel? I hate black-on-black violence."

"Do you know this...individual, Yassa?" one of the farmers asked Cas.

Paul's eyes grew wide, and then they narrowed. "'Yassa'?!" he exclaimed. "What the hell kind of b.s. is that?"

"Have some respect, Demon," the other farmer admonished Paul. He pulled a knife out of his pocket. They all carried blades now, even some of the older children. Whether this was in imitation of Cas, or simply as a means of protection, was unclear. "Do you want me to dispatch this Thing for you, Messiah?"

Paul did a double-take. "OK, first of all, I'm not a 'Thing'," he said irritably. "And secondly, what's with all this 'yassa', 'no suh', nonsense? I thought apartheid was dead."

Cas sighed heavily. "You can let him go," he said to the farmers. "He speaks from ignorance, but he is an ally."

The townsmen let go of Paul's arms, but they continued to look at him with suspicion.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" Cas asked the Demon wearily.

"I'm - " Paul started to say. The farmer who was holding the knife was staring him down, and the guy was huge. Paul really didn't want to have to blast him if he could help it. That wouldn't exactly be the way to prove to these people that he was one of the good guys.

"And, more importantly, where have you been?" Dean said angrily. "Where were you when they were killing that baby?"

"I was called in to a meeting with my boss," Paul told them. "Then, when I came back, my team had already moved on, and you guys were gone, too. Then I realized it was Christmas Eve, and I took a chance that you all might be here."

"Well, we're headed to church right now, and I don't think we want to talk about your 'boss' there," Gail said, with an edge to her voice. She was angry at Paul, almost as angry as she was at her own husband. Paul was supposed to be an ally of theirs, yet she had not seen or heard anything from him since the day Lucifer's men had taken out her team with that chemical bomb. But she wasn't about to bring any of that up in front of the African people, especially not since they were all heading to church on Christmas Eve.

Paul looked at her now, and his face broke into a smile. "You look very nice, wearing the clothes of my people," he said to her. Then he looked Cas up and down. "I guess you do too, but if you think I'm calling you 'Yassa', you're crazy."

"For your information, 'Yassa' is a diminutive of 'Yissa', or 'Yissa'Yah', which means, 'he who comes in the name of the Father'. It is not the pejorative 'Yassuh', or 'Yes, Massuh'. We do not speak like that, even to the Messiah, nor would he ever request us to," the farmer, who was still holding his knife, admonished Paul. The Demon looked at him in surprise. "That's right, we don't carry spears, and we don't wash our clothes on rocks down by the river," the farmer said sarcastically. "Some of us are actually educated, believe it or not. You are so sensitive to prejudice, ndugu, yet you yourself are just as guilty of it as the others you accuse."

"And, before you ask, 'ndugu' means brother, or relative," the other farmer said. "We are obviously brothers of the skin. But we saw the colour of your eyes when you first appeared, and we knew that you were different. If Yissa says you can be trusted, we have faith in him. But, do not make the mistake of thinking that we are savages, or that we are stupid."

Cas was smiling. He couldn't have said it better himself. "As my beautiful queen stated, we are departing for church. You can come with us, if you want," he told Paul.

"Him?" Bobby said doubtfully. "Won't he burst into flames, or something?"

"Paul seeks redemption," Cas stated calmly. "What better way to try to achieve it than to attend church with Angels on Christmas Eve?"

Paul stared at him. He had to be kidding with this. But Castiel returned Paul's gaze steadily. "What do you say, ndugu?" he asked Paul.

The Demon laughed shortly, shaking his head slowly. "You know what? Why not?" he said softly. "Why not? Lead on, Yissa."

As the humans, Angels, Demon and townspeople began the procession to church, Frank fell in beside one of the farmers who had accosted Paul. "So, you believe that Cas is the Messiah?" Frank asked the man curiously.

Cas's heart sank. Here we go, he thought.

"We don't believe he is, we know he is," the man told Frank matter-of-factly. "My family and I light candles and pray to him every night. So do all the people in our town, and all of the surrounding towns, also. Most of us hang his picture in our living area, though some favour the kitchen, to make blessings on the food. Some even hang the picture in the barn, to bless the livestock."

"Is that so?" Frank asked innocently, but his lips were twitching so furiously that Jody thought they might fly right off his face.

Cas braced himself.

"Do his eyes follow you around the room?" Sam asked, grinning.

"Does he give you any tips on recipes when he's in the kitchen?" Kevin piped up.

"I'm working on the image I have of Cas on the wall in the barn," Frank said delightedly. "I have so many manure jokes running around in my head right now...Hey, Winchester, you wanna help me out, here?"

Gail's brother elbowed Dean in the side. Dean was grinning, too. "This is too freakin' funny," he said. "Do you have to bow when he comes in the room, or kneel?"

"Hey, Bobby, you might have a problem there," Sam joked. "With your knees and bad back, maybe he'll just let you kiss his ring, instead."

Cas was becoming extremely embarrassed now. It wasn't like he hadn't known this would be coming, but still, it was hard to endure because the men were reinforcing the absurdity of it all.

Frank and the Winchester brothers continued to make jokes, and they were leaning on each other for support now, because they were laughing so hard.

"I hope this church has a washroom, 'cause I'm gonna pee myself in a minute," Frank gasped. He was trying to catch his breath from laughing so much.

Dean's stomach hurt. Man, this was too good. He hadn't laughed like this since...actually, he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this much. He'd even snorted a couple of times. He snuck a glance over at Gail, but she was expressionless. His smile faded. Man, she was one tough nut to crack, now. He started to pity Cas.

Sam was still grinning. This had been just what the doctor ordered, especially after the rough year they'd just had. "When we get to the church, are we gonna see your baby pictures in the nativity scene?" he asked Cas, rather cleverly.

"We need you to work a miracle, Cas," Dean chipped in. "We need you to get Bobby a sense of humour for Christmas."

"We won't have to teleport home," Chuck said. "Cas can just walk us across the ocean."

Dean looked at Chuck, then extended his hand for a high-five. "Not bad, Chuckster," he said. Chuck was shocked. Dean had never offered him a high-five before, and he had certainly never called Chuck a nickname before. Well, not one he could repeat in mixed company, anyway. He went to slap hands with Dean, but he missed, making the guys laugh even harder. Chuck smiled sheepishly. Oh, well. If he was going to laugh at others, he had to be able to laugh at himself too, didn't he?

"Well, I don't know about that, but, all I know is, if Cas can change water into wine, we're gonna have a very Merry Christmas," Frank said. He poked Gail. "Am I right, kiddo?" Gail said nothing. "Or, I should say, a very Merry Cas-mas," Frank continued. "Hey, I think that's what we need to call it from now on. 'Have you got your Cas-mas shopping done yet? Better hurry up and get those Cas-mas cards in the mail.'"

Cas had let them go on for perhaps longer than he should have, mostly because it had done his heart good to see them like this. Laughing and joking, teasing him. Just as things used to be. He'd also been hoping against hope that Gail would join in, at some point. She was the Queen of the Quip, and she had never been able to stay silent for this long when the jokes were flying around, as they were now. Usually she had the best ones, too. But she just kept on walking, not reacting to anything that was going on around her. She was by his side, but she was not with him, not yet. He hadn't even tried to take her hand since she had denied him at the house.

It was time to put an end to this. The townspeople weren't speaking either, but Cas had to be sensitive to their feelings, too. "That's enough," he said sharply. "I realize you needed the outlet, but this has to stop now. You're being rude to our hosts. They're wonderful people, with big hearts, and they have sacrificed much to ensure that you all have a nice Christmas celebration."

The men fell silent, but Cas was warming to his subject now. He wanted to make sure that his friends and family understood, and he wanted to express his gratitude to the American people for their kindness, and their sacrifice. So he stopped walking and looked at everyone. "I want to be very clear about this," he continued. "These fine people have the least to sacrifice, yet they have sacrificed the most. Quite a number of them have died at the hands of Lucifer's followers, yet they kept on fighting. They are stoic about death and suffering, probably because they have experienced so much of it. All of the members of these communities work together to accomplish their goals, and they look out for each other as best they can. Still, many families have suffered deaths from disease, or famine, when there has been a drought. So if I could help them out in any way, such as providing them with rain for their crops, I was happy to do it, if only to repay the kindness that they have shown to us. These are good people, who know the difference between right and wrong. That was why they took it upon themselves to take up arms against Lucifer's killers. I didn't ask them to, not did I ask for their worship. We are all here to serve God, myself included, and I want to tell you that I have never met a finer example of that principle in my life than I have in these people."

There was silence for a moment, and then one of the farmers began to speak to some of the villagers in their own language, translating what Cas had just said. When he had finished, the people all knelt on the road and bowed their heads. Cas pursed his lips in frustration. It seemed that no matter what he said or did, he couldn't stop them from doing that.

He sighed. "Please rise."

Then, a miracle: Gail put her hand in Cas's, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. She had been touched by his words. Suddenly, Gail thought she could picture what had gone on here. Educated or not, these people had recognized the ultimate Good that Cas represented. He had appeared to these farmers and villagers out of nowhere, fighting the forces of Evil and performing miracles for them. No wonder they felt the way they did about him. It had clearly gotten out of hand, but obviously, Cas had not been able to stop the momentum. Even now, the people were murmuring words of praise and devotion to him. But it was all coming out of a place of love, and really, was it very much different than the words of love that she and Cas often spoke to each other? She'd missed that too, a lot. She didn't want to be angry with him anymore. That emotion took up way too much of her time and energy. So she'd put her hand in his, and he'd rewarded her with a relieved smile.

"I love you, sweetie," Gail said, as Cas's heart swelled with happiness, and hope. "Let's go say hi to our Father," she said, smiling.

Christmas Day dawned, and there was another church service in the morning. They all went to that one too, even Paul. He had entered the building with some trepidation, but he guessed word had spread that he was a friend of Yissa, because everyone greeted him with a tone of friendly fellowship.

The church was a simple wooden structure; no stained-glass windows or solid gold chalices here. Every pew had exactly one Bible and one songbook, and sharing was encouraged.

During the Christmas Day readings, Paul's mind wandered. If Lucifer could only see him now. He had been able to pass on the intel to Castiel the night before that Lucifer's numbers were seriously dwindling, and the Master was really angry about it. But it had been unclear who he was the angriest at. There was lots of hate to go around. The God Squad was the main target, of course. But there was also Jason, who had just up and disappeared. Now, Paul was wondering if Jason had just been looking for an excuse to desert his post. Although it was curious, because Lucifer had given the vampire the longest leash out of all of them. Lucifer was also mad at Crowley. By now, he was convinced that the King of Hell was wooing the Demons back to his domain somehow. But whatever he was doing, or not doing, it was clearly working, because the defectors were now re-defecting in record numbers. Lucifer wasn't getting enough returnees, and the humans he'd had were either going to Hell or to Purgatory, if they had been lesser offenders. That kid Corey, the one that Gail had been looking to torture, had come back in the company of a couple of hardcore Demons. But Corey had slit his own wrists and bled out, the first night he had returned to the compound. After Gail's group had released him, Corey had planned to go back home to his parents. But the Demons had caught up with him instead, and they had forced him to accompany them on their subsequent missions. Then they had forced him to kill, and then, when he had refused to raise his knife to that baby, they had killed the baby anyway, and then beat the crap out of Corey. So when they'd brought him back to Lucifer's camp, Corey had said a silent prayer of apology, and then he had killed himself. He was currently in Limbo. There was no God in Heaven, and even Death himself hadn't known what to do with young Corey.

So, Lucifer was mad at everyone. He was even mad at Mark, for getting himself killed. The death squads had been a fantastic idea in principle, and at least they'd had Castiel and his bunch running around and chasing their tails for a while. But come Christmas, Lucifer had had to admit that overall, the project had been a failure. Castiel and his friends were all still standing, and despite the generous bounty that Lucifer had offered on all of their hides, things remained status quo. They had to be the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet.

"He sent those of us who were left back out there," Paul had told Cas, "but there aren't very many, and I don't think there's much of a threat any more. You can only fight for so long, and I think that those few who are left standing realize the party's over."

Cas's eyes had flashed. "Mind your language. I know you are only using vernacular, but I think we can all agree that thousands upon thousands of deaths hardly constitutes a 'party'."

"Yeah, and it's all very well and good that you're telling us this now, but where were you before?" Gail said angrily.

Paul looked at her evenly. "Ever wonder why the chemical attacks just suddenly stopped?"

"I just assumed it was because the people who'd joined us were killed by them," Gail replied coolly. "That it was enough of a deterrent to others. And it worked, didn't it? Frank's campaign died with those people." She looked at her brother. "It was a brilliant idea, though, and it was great while it lasted. Those T-shirts were popping up all over Europe. I wish I'd gotten one for a souvenir."

Frank sighed. "If you really hunt for them, you can probably still find them in thrift stores. Somewhere on the shelf between Milli Vanilli CDs and Pet Rocks, probably. And, for the record, that campaign was both mine and Matty's. May he rest in peace."

Kevin bowed his head sadly. That was going to haunt him for a long, long time.

Gail grabbed her brother's hand and gave it a squeeze. "You and Matt became good friends, didn't you?" she asked Frank.

"Yeah, we did, kiddo," he said quietly. The lump was starting to form in his throat now, so he turned to Paul and said, "What ABOUT the chemical attacks? What were you going to say?"

"He was going to keep bombing the crap out of everyone, until I lied and told him that the poison was making the Demons on my team sick, despite the test he'd done back at the compound," Paul said. "Not that he cares about our welfare, of course, but he didn't want his squads to be short-handed. So then, he told us to stop using those bombs. So, even though you may not have seen me, I was still doing my best to help."

The God Squad exchanged glances. They'd had no idea. "Thanks, man," Dean said to Paul. "We appreciate that."

Cas was impressed. That had been a significant contribution on Paul's part, and it had saved countless human lives. "Paul, I will make a promise to you now," he told the Demon. "Once this is over, I will do my utmost to ensure that you do not return to Purgatory. You have demonstrated to my satisfaction that you're truly seeking redemption."

"Thanks, Castiel," Paul had said, leaning back in his chair. He was feeling very strange right now. It was extremely disconcerting for someone like Paul to be sitting here with a bunch of white folks, being served drinks and platters of food by a bunch of black people. Funny, a couple of years ago he would have been spitting nails, flinging accusations of racial prejudice around. Making nasty comments about Castiel being a slave master, or something. But now he realized that this wasn't like that, not at all. The skin colour of these people was irrelevant, it seemed. They were so devoted to their Yissa, and so welcoming to his friends, that they treated Paul with the same deference and friendliness as anyone else. Even though his skin was dark brown, and his eyes were black. Just as if he were as good as white.

And now it was Christmas Day, and the townspeople were bustling around the house, preparing the feast. They wouldn't allow any of the guests to lift a finger to help, though several of them had offered. Now Paul could kind of see what Castiel had been talking about. If you even got up from your seat, they looked at you suspiciously, as if you had some nerve, to try to get something for yourself. After the first couple of times, it was easier just to sit back and let them bring things to you.

An African man approached Castiel now, bowing low. "Merry Kisimusi, Yissah," he said.

Cas sighed. "Merry Kisimusi, Pankaja," he replied.

The man's head snapped up. "You know my name?"

Cas smiled faintly. "Yes, I remember your name, because it's so unusual. Well, by American standards, anyway. Even here, I've noticed that most of your fellow townspeople have Biblical names."

Pankaja nodded. "That is true, Yissa. My name translates to 'born in dirt'." He smiled faintly. "That is certainly true. But my wife and I are doing our best to ensure that our son receives a good education, so that he can have a better life." The man motioned to a woman, who came forward and took his hand. She looked at Cas and curtsied. He sighed again. He really wished they would stop doing that.

"This is my wife, Ute," Pankaja continued. "Ironically enough, her name translates into one word: 'riches'. But as we all know, to be rich does not necessarily denote financial wealth only. We are rich in love, and in morality. We are rich in the kindness of feeling for our fellow men, and women." He smiled at Gail. "Did I say that all right? My English is self-taught, and Ute has schooled me in womens' rights."

Gail laughed merrily. "You said that very well. Way to go, Ute."

Ute's forehead wrinkled. "Go? Go where?" she said, puzzled.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, smiling. Didn't that sound familiar?

Cas saw them smile, and he was bemused. He knew what they were smiling about. "It's a slang expression, Ute," he told her. "It means that you are to be congratulated. I have found that my gender often has to be enlightened as to the struggles of womankind. I myself have learned a lot from my wife, and I have no doubt that the educational process will continue."

Gail couldn't help but smile. "You'd be right about that," she said. She looked at the couple. "It sounds like your son will be very well educated on that score, too," she added. "Is he here?"

"Yes, Queen," Pankaja responded, giving her a half-bow, "and he has something for you. But, he's very shy." The man gestured. "Dejuan, come here, please."

A young boy came out from behind a group of townspeople. His hands were behind his back as he edged up shyly towards where Cas and Gail were sitting.

"This is my son, Dejuan," Pankaja said proudly. He put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "His name means 'God is merciful'. And our Father certainly is that, because He brought us you, Yissa. Our crops were dying, and many of us were dying of disease. And we would have died of starvation if you hadn't come along. Then, Lucifer's death squads came, and you vanquished them. We will be sorry to see you leave, but we understand that you have a higher purpose. Dejuan said to us this morning that he wanted to find a way to say thank you. Go ahead, my son."

The boy moved hesitantly forward. He was looking down at the floor, but then he slowly raised his eyes. He glanced at Cas, then looked at Gail. Dejuan said something to her in his native language. He brought his hands out from behind his back and extended a wrapped gift, not towards Cas, but towards Gail.

Naturally, Gail didn't understand what the child had said to her. She looked at Cas, but he shook his head. He had picked up bits and pieces of the various dialects here, and that was how he had known the meaning of the nickname that the townspeople had bestowed upon Gail. But this time, he was at a loss.

Pankaja was smiling. "My son is wishing to thank you for letting us borrow the Messiah. When Yissa left us briefly before the Christmas celebration, he told us when he returned that he would have to leave us for good, to make a sacrifice in order to defeat Lucifer. But, thanks to your husband, we will be all right now. He has done so much for us. When the death squads set fire to our school a couple of months ago, Yissa helped us to rebuild it, and while the construction was going on, he provided our children with catechism lessons based on stories from the Bible, and theological guidance."

Gail looked at her husband, impressed. He was smiling gently. "Well, I was able to provide some factual information. I was there, after all," Cas said.

Gail sighed. She had been so angry with him for being here instead of out in the battlefield, and in many ways, she still was. But she had been unaware of exactly how much his presence here had meant to these people. No wonder he was like a Saint to them.

She took the gift from Dejuan's extended hands, smiling at him. Then she opened it. She took the kite out of the box, admiring it. It was very colourful, with a long tail. A bit of a curious present for her, but Dejuan was a child, so he would think like a child. He probably loved flying kites, and figured she would, too.

Gail looked at Dejuan, and his parents. She'd been about to say thank you to the boy when Ute put a hand to her mouth and let out a choked sob. Gail looked at her quizzically.

Pankaja put his arm around his wife and smiled at Gail. "You may be wondering why he would give you such a gift. It is because that is Dejuan's own gift, which his mother and I gave to him this morning. It is the only gift we could afford to give him, and it is something that he has been asking us for all year. But now, he wishes for you to have it. It is a gift from his heart. Ute and I have never been prouder of our son."

Gail looked at him with wide eyes, and then she looked at Cas. Her lower lip was trembling, and her eyes were pooling with tears. I can't do it, Cas, her eyes said. I can't take this kid's only present. I have to give it back to him. Cas gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. To refuse the gift would be unacceptable, as well. The boy was giving her the only thing he had to give.

Gail choked back the tears. She smiled at the boy. "Thank you very much, Dejuan," she said to him. "It's a beautiful kite, and I will be proud to take it home."

Dejuan smiled shyly at her, and then he ran to her and gave her a hug. Then the child looked quickly at Cas with wide eyes again, and then he ran back to his parents, hiding behind his father's leg.

"Excuse me," Gail said in a thick voice. She jumped up from the couch and ran to Cas's bedroom in the back of the house. She placed the kite gently on the bed, then sat down and started to cry.

A moment later, Cas let himself in. He came over and sat down beside her, putting his arms around her.

"Cas..." she started to say, but the lump in her throat was too big.

"I know, my darling," he said.

She turned to look at him. "We've got to do something for him, Cas," she said, clutching at him. "There's no way I'm taking his only present. No way."

Cas smiled. "I feel the same way," he told her. He started to kiss her face, wiping her tears away at the same time. "Don't worry. We'll have to give Santa Claus a little assistance later on. But right now, the people have advised that the feast is ready to serve." He sighed heavily. "They're wonderful people, Gail, but I'm ready to go home. I'm very glad that I was able to help them, but I can't be served and worshipped like this anymore. I feel so guilty about it. I became everything that my enemies always accused me of being. Spoiled, and selfish. Acting as if it was my due, for some reason. And why? Because I was able to help them? I'm an Angel, Gail. That's what I should be doing. We just witnessed the most selfless act I've ever seen, in all my centuries of existence."

"Which at least gives me hope for the younger generation," Gail said, with a half smile. She nodded. "And I'm really, really happy to hear you say you don't want to be served or worshipped anymore, because you know there's no way in hell that's happening when we get back to our house."

Cas laughed, giving her a squeeze. "Thank you for that, my love. I appreciate your humour, and your forgiveness."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall saying you had my forgiveness."

Cas looked at her. Was she teasing, or not?

Gail didn't feel like enlightening him at the moment, but she did take his hand. "Let's go to the feast," she said. But her tone was cool.

Everyone was already seated in the dining room area when they got there. "Would you make the blessing, please, Yissa?" one of the farmers asked Cas. "We will stay for the prayer, and then we will leave you to dine with your family."

Cas moved to the head of the table, seating Gail beside him. He remained standing, looking down at all of the food on the table. "It all looks so wonderful," Cas told the townspeople. He took a deep breath. What exactly did he want to say, here?

"When we were butchering the animals for the Christmas feast, I was brought back to my days as a shepherd, at the very beginning. My existence was simple back then, and it was also very lonely. Now, I have all of you in my life; my friends and family from the States, and now my new friends, here. We all thank you for your hospitality, and I must thank you personally for the kindness that you have shown to me, and to all of us. May our Father see fit to bless us all in the upcoming year, but if you need help with the crops in the future and our Father happens to be busy, please feel free to pray to me, and I'll return, if I can." Cas smiled, looking around the room. He saw no reason to burden the African people with Heaven's politics. The bottom line was, these people had faith. And as long as they had that, Castiel was going to do his utmost to ensure that it was not in vain.

"I know my American friends don't really think in these terms, but my friends the farmers are well aware that animals were put on Earth by God to serve man, and man was put on Earth to serve God. I was very happy and humbled to help prepare the animals to be cooked for our feast today. Please, eat heartily. I know that many of you have not eaten nearly this well in a very long time," Cas went on.

Now Cas's throat began to close up as he pictured the hardships that Gail and Frank and all of them had had to endure in the past year. Lucifer had stolen that time from them. They would never get that back, but hopefully, they would be able to mend all of the fractured relationships he saw when he looked around the table. They were all looking pretty calm at the moment, but Cas knew that there would still be a lot of work, going forward. It was so unfair.

Gail looked up at her husband. She could see the shine in his eyes, and the way he was working his jaw. Cas was losing it.

"With your indulgence, I think there's one more thing we have to do before we dig in," Gail said to the group. "We need to observe a very important tradition." She stood and took Cas's hand, then cleared her throat. "'Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me'," she sang.

Then everyone at the table stood and joined hands with one another, continuing to sing the song. To her surprise, the African people also joined in, singing the lyrics in English. They all joined hands, too. One of the burly farmers took one of Paul's hands, and the look on the Demon's face was so comical that Gail couldn't help but smile. She actually blessed Paul at that moment, because right before that, her voice had started to falter. She thought about the lyrics of the song they were singing, and the kind of year they had just had. She thought about the sort of person she had almost become, versus the sort of person she wanted to be. Cas hadn't just saved the African people; he had saved her, too.

When the song was done, they were all sniffling and wiping their eyes. Cas gave Gail's hand a squeeze. She was looking at the townspeople. "You all know that song?" she asked them, surprised.

"Yes, we all learn it at a very young age," one of the women said. "And we sing it every year on Christmas Day in all our homes, just as you do."

"Now that we have been blessed with Yissa, and with all of you, our faith has been renewed that one day, it will happen," Pankaja added.

"And now that I've met all of you, so has mine," Gail said quietly. She looked at Cas. "So has mine," she repeated, to him.

His heart swelled. His Gail, the love of his life. She was all the way back now. Thank God. He was going to see to it that she never lost her faith again. Whatever it took, he was going to end the violence, and he was going to end it now. Peace was indeed going to begin with him.

Then the townspeople began to leave the house. Interestingly enough, they left silently, and none of them bowed or genuflected on their way out.

As soon as their group was alone, Jody exclaimed, "Dean!"

"What?" he said. Or presumably, that was what he said. His mouth was crammed full of food, and he was spooning some more onto his plate. He looked up innocently at everyone, then swallowed.

"Hey, I was hungry," Dean said, a little defensively. "Come on, Cas, have a heart. We prayed, we sang, and we cried. Now, it's time to eat. Whaddaya say?"

"What do I say?" Cas said, smiling. "I say: Bon Appetit." He and Gail sat down again. "Do you want to eat, my love?" Cas asked her.

Gail shrugged. "I don't know, Cas. I'm not really hungry, to tell you the truth. I wasn't mentally prepared to eat today. Why, do you think it would be rude if I didn't? It's not like anybody's going to know."

Cas considered that. He supposed she had a point.

"Just try one of these fufu things," Frank said to her. She turned to look at him, opening her mouth to speak, and he popped one into her mouth.

Gail started to chew it, and then she made a face. She swallowed it with difficulty. "Woof," she remarked. "That's definitely an acquired taste."

Frank grinned. "Yeah, I agree," he told her. "I just wanted to see your face."

She hit him on the arm. "Cas, Frank is being mean to me," Gail pretended to whine.

"Ow!" Frank said good-naturedly, rubbing his arm. "If you're gonna begin that peace on Earth stuff, maybe it should begin in this house, at this table," he teased his sister.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him loudly on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Frank," Gail said sweetly. He eyed her suspiciously. She started to smile. "I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to get you a present," Gail continued in an innocent tone. "What shade of Grecian Formula do you want?"

Dean threw his fork down on his plate. "Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering how long that was gonna take!"

"Well, then, why didn't YOU bring it up?" Gail asked him.

"Because I was inspired by your message of peace and love," Dean said primly, helping himself to more of the stew.

"Because he was too busy feeding his face," Sam said, smirking, but he was loading up his plate, too.

"Does it really look that bad?" Frank asked them. "I just thought it looked distinguished."

"Is that what Jody told you?" Bobby said, joining in the fun. "That's just a diplomatic way of calling you old. I've been getting that for years."

"Yeah, but you ARE old," Chuck piped up. Bobby glared at him, but Sam and Dean grinned at each other while Bobby's attention was focused on Chuck.

"No, I'm the one who's old," Cas said, sitting back in his chair. "Isn't anyone going to tease me about that? I'm so old that when I was a child, the Dead Sea Scrolls were only sick."

Frank looked incredulously at his brother-in-law. Not the most original of jokes, but still, for Cas, it had been hilarious. "That was good, Cas," he told him.

"He's so old, he had a pet dinosaur," Ethan chipped in.

"How did you know?" Cas said, smiling gently.

"How DID you guys come up with fire, anyway?" Sam contributed, still grinning.

"Cas is so old, he drove a mastodon to work," Dean joked.

"Introducing the new Ford Mastodon, at a dealership near you," Frank added. "Prices starting at five rocks, or best offer."

"It was a woolly mammoth, actually," Cas said, his smile widening. "But the mileage was very good."

Everyone laughed, and Gail looked at him warmly. She appreciated what Cas was doing now. Her husband returned her gaze, cocking an eyebrow. "Do you have anything you'd like to say on the subject?" Cas asked her.

But she couldn't think of anything, not a single thing. "I'm empty," she moaned. "I can't believe it! I don't think that's ever happened to me before!"

"Another Christmas miracle," Dean said, his mouth full of food.

"Give me one of those things," Gail said to Frank. He passed her a fufu and she pegged it at Dean.

"Thanks," Dean said, catching it neatly before it hit him. "But I thought it was your husband that was supposed to make it rain food from Heaven." He dipped the fufu in his stew, smirking, as everybody laughed again. But this time, the laugh had a bit of an uneasy tone to it.

Gail got up from her chair and walked slowly around the table to where Dean sat.

"Uh-oh," Frank said. "Quick, hide the forks."

Gail leaned down to Dean and put her arms around him, giving him a kiss. "Merry Christmas, Dean," she said. "I love you."

"Aw, now you're taking all the fun out of it," he groused, but he was smiling.

"I never stopped loving you this past year, not once," she told him. She looked up at Sam and Bobby. "You guys, either. I'm sorry for the way I was. I'm sorry for a lot of things." She started to cry again.

Dean put his fork down on his plate. He turned around to look at her. Then he took her hands in his. "You were a real dick," Dean said to her. Then he smiled. "But, so was I, and so was Bobby, and so was Sam. And so was your husband. So welcome to the dick club, Gail."

"How long will it take before I get my penis in the mail?" she asked him pertly.

"Four to six weeks," Sam piped up.

"Shipping and handling just took on a whole new meaning," Frank quipped.

"We'll spend another half hour here, and then Gail and I will take all of you back to the bunker," Cas announced, as Gail came back to sit beside him again. He smiled at his wife and took her hand. "We have one more thing we need to do here, and then we'll come and join you there."

"What's that, Cas?" Ethan asked curiously.

Cas gave Gail's hand a squeeze, then told the group what they had in mind. Everyone smiled and nodded their approval.

When all the humans had finished eating, Jody said, "Should we at least clean up the dishes?"

Cas smiled faintly. "Believe it or not, we would insult our hosts if we did that."

Dean smirked. "Geez, I've gotta come here more often."

Sam rolled his eyes. "When's the last time you voluntarily washed a dish, Dean?"

"Actually, Barry does all of that at the bunker now, and I think you guys owe him a big thank you," Tommy said pointedly.

"Oh, well, I guess we've been so busy killing Lucifer's douchebags for you guys that we haven't had time to pop by and pick up a dish cloth," Dean said sarcastically.

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Dean cursed himself. That had come out a lot more harshly than he'd intended, and now everybody was looking at him like he was the Grinch, or something.

Cas sighed. Yes, the healing would definitely take time. "If everyone is finished, we'll go home now," he said. Then he and Gail and their fellow Angels popped everyone back to America.

"I'm gonna sleep for about a week," Dean said, rushing down the hall to his room. He could still feel the negative vibe coming from his friends, and he didn't want to deal with any of that right now.

Sam looked around for a moment. "What he said," the younger Winchester remarked, following Dean down the hall.

"I'm gonna have a couple of belts," Bobby announced. "Anybody wanna join me?"

"I will," Tommy said, and after a beat, Frank said, "So will I."

Gail looked at Bobby for a moment, but she said nothing. That was another elephant that would need to be tamed, but not today. Not today.

"OK, Cas and I are going to go run our errand, and then we'll be back," she said.

"Just a minute," Rob said suddenly. "Wait here." He went down the hall, and then he came back, carrying the volumes of the book series about the boy wizard that Cas and Gail had given to him the previous Christmas. "Give these to the kid, from me. I've read them all already, multiple times. If I want to read them again, I'll ask for a set for my birthday, or something. After all, I lead a life of privilege. Right, Cas?"

Cas didn't really know what to make of Rob's tone, but at least his heart was in the right place. Gail thought so, too. She thanked Rob and gave him a hug.

Then the Angels popped over to their own house. It was surreal, seeing the living room just as they'd left it a year ago. The Christmas tree was still up, and the opened presents they'd received were still sitting under it. But Gail noticed that there was one wrapped present there, too. "What's that?" she asked Cas.

Darn, he thought. Of course she would have noticed it. "We'll talk about that when we get back from our errand. OK, my love?"

Gail looked at him curiously for a moment, then she said, "OK, Cas. Now, what's the plan?"

A short while later, the Angels appeared outside the church in Africa where they had gone for the Christmas services. Cas took the money envelope out of the inside pocket of his blazer and slipped it under the door. Now, they could buy some more Bibles, and make some badly-needed improvements to the structure. The last time he had made it rain, the roof had leaked.

Then, they popped over to the house where Dejuan and his parents lived. The family were all asleep, so the Angels moved quietly. The family didn't keep a tree because it would have been an extravagance, so the Angels left the presents on the kitchen table. Soap, candles, and spices. And Gail had insisted on going to a local hobby shop before they left Kansas. It had been morning there, and she and Cas bought Dejuan another kite. She was going to keep the one he'd given her because of everything it represented, but she couldn't bear the thought of him not having one, not after he'd spent all year begging his parents for it. In their village, it would have been considered a very frivolous present, but after a bit of discussion, his parents had relented. Children needed food, clothing, and an education, but they also needed to be children, didn't they? Dejuan would be a grown man with responsibilities of his own soon enough. And he was the sort of boy who would share with all of the town's children, his parents had reasoned.

Gail lay the kite down on the kitchen table now, along with the note that she had written to the boy. In her note, she thanked him again for the gift of her kite, and she assured him that she would treasure it. But now, she wanted to give him a kite from her own home country, in return. It was supposed to be an excellent flyer, due to a feature it had called "Angel wings". She asked Dejuan to think of her and Yissa whenever he flew the kite. She also put the books that Rob had given her on the table for the boy. While Gail agreed with Cas that Rob had had a bit of an edge to his offer, Gail had still been encouraged by Rob's desire to give Dejuan a gift. She had noticed that Rob had matured quite a bit from the year before, and not necessarily in a good way, either. They would have to deal with that particular elephant, too. Maybe Gail could help with that, if the boy would talk to her. She could provide a sounding board for him, and if necessary, she could tell Rob that she had spent much of the past year being bitter and resentful, and that it had gotten her exactly nowhere.

But for now, there was the joy she felt at the prospect of Dejuan waking up to find these gifts on the table. Gail had added a P.S. to her note, saying that magic can be real, if you just believe. A bit Disney, maybe, but she'd thought it was a good message to leave him with, nonetheless.

She and Cas smiled at each other. Then he took her hand, and they winked away.

When they got back to the bunker, there were only Frank, Bobby, Tommy and Chuck remaining at the library table. Everyone else had gone to bed or gone back up to Heaven.

"Frank, Chuck, can I see you for a moment?" Cas asked the men. He gestured for them to follow him into the corridor.

Gail looked at them curiously, but then she simply shrugged, and sat down at the table to wait.

"I'm going to need the two of you tomorrow, along with Sam and Dean," Cas told the men, his expression grim. "Please get some rest, both of you. Gail and I will be back here tomorrow morning."

"What's this all about, Cas?" Frank asked his brother-in-law.

Cas put his hand on Frank's shoulder. "Tomorrow, Frank. Please, try to get some sleep, and we'll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to go home and talk to my wife. We have a lot to catch up on, and if I try really hard, perhaps I will receive her forgiveness as my Christmas gift. It's the only gift I really want this year."

Chuck smiled. "Well, good luck getting it, then," he said to Cas.

But Frank did not smile. He could only imagine what kinds of emotions were running through his sister's head right now. Bobby had been telling them some stuff about her that had made Frank's flesh crawl. It was easy for Chuck to smile. He hadn't been out there.

Chuck had smiled reflexively, but he'd been just as horrified to hear what Bobby had been saying. Chuck was starting to feel extremely guilty now. When they'd all been out there getting dirty and bloody, Chuck had been floating around Heaven, working in the library, and making the occasional visit here to the bunker. In short, his life had remained pretty much the same. Why should Chuck have been so lucky? He had also noticed the change in Frank's appearance, and Gail's brother wasn't the only one who looked as if he'd aged more than a year. Chuck was trying to stay in deep denial about the whole thing.

"I'll see you both tomorrow," Cas said. Then he turned around and walked back out to the library. "Are you ready to go home, my darling?" he said to Gail. She nodded wearily. Then she rose to her feet, took his hand, and then they were gone.


	4. A Blessing And A Curse

Chapter 4 - A Blessing And A Curse

They reappeared in the bedroom of their house.

"Do you mind terribly if I have my shower first?" Cas asked her. "That way, I can take our African clothes back to our hosts' house before they wake. And I'm sure you'll want to take your time, when your turn comes. Think of how wonderful it's going to feel."

Gail WAS thinking about that, and she sighed in anticipation. She'd had a shower at that house in Africa, but there was just something about using the facilities in your own house, and being able to put on your own clothes, that couldn't be beat.

Cas headed into the washroom for his shower, and Gail took off her African clothes and put on a nightshirt. She would have to put on a fresh one when she came out of the shower, but she'd wanted to clean her African outfit for Cas to take back with him. Those people had served them quite enough.

Interestingly, Paul had elected to stay behind. He'd advised that he wanted to help the townspeople clean up after the Christmas celebration, and he'd expressed a desire to attend at least one more church service before he had to go back. He'd wanted to "get himself right", as he'd put it. Gail had given Paul a hug, saying she hoped to see him again soon, on the right side of the fence. He'd laughed, chucking her under the chin and calling her his "Boo". Then he'd shaken Castiel's hand.

Cas came into the bedroom wearing black pants and an open white shirt. He was carrying his African robes.

"Here, give them to me," Gail said. "I've already cleaned my dress. That way, you can return them both, freshly cleaned."

He smiled gently, handing her the robes. She waved her hands over them, folded the outfit, and handed it and the dress to him.

"Thank you, my love," Cas said, shrugging on his blazer. "Take your time in the shower. I'll be out in the living room when you're done." Then he popped out.

Gail took a long, leisurely shower, putting on a fresh nightshirt afterwards. Then she went out to the living room. Cas was sitting on the couch, waiting for her.

She sat down beside him, looking at his face. He had shaved his beard off, and she had a dizzying moment of deja vu to a year ago. He was about to tell her that she deserved a break for working so hard, and that there was still plenty of time to get everything done. The past year had just been one big nightmare. It had never happened.

But Angels didn't sleep, and the fantasy didn't hold. Cas said, "When I finally had to face what I had become in Africa, I made two stops before I came to get all of you for the Christmas feast. Well, technically, it was three. I went to a store, and then I came back here. Those were my first two stops. The present you saw under the tree is the one I got for you at the store, and I'd like you to open it now, please."

He rose from the couch and went over to the tree. He bent down to pick up the gift, and he brought it to her now.

She took it from him and set it on her lap. It was pliable, and oddly-shaped. What could it be?

"Open it, please," Cas insisted gently.

Gail tore the paper, and her mouth dropped open. It was a stuffed penguin, identical to the one she'd had as a child. She looked at Cas, astonished.

"When I dropped Frank off, after we left you on your birthday, I asked him to provide a description of Ralph," Cas told her. "Did I get him right?"

"Oh, Cas," Gail said in a trembling voice. "He looks exactly like Ralph." She stared at the stuffed animal, then at her husband.

"I just thought that, since I can't provide you with a do-over on the past year, I could at least give you your Ralph back," Cas said earnestly.

Gail burst into tears. Cas looked at her, dismayed. "Have I made you happy, or sad?" he asked her, disconcerted.

"Yes," was all she could manage. Now Cas started to cry too, and they reached for each other, hugging Ralph between them as they wept. There was a lot of crying to be done. All those deaths. The heavy toll that the past year had taken on all of them. A little girl's lost innocence. They could take their pick. But there was some happiness in their tears, too. First and foremost, they still had each other. Their marriage had been tested, but it had weathered the storm. And thankfully, all of their loved ones were still alive.

They cried together for a long time, about all of those things and more, without a word being exchanged between them. They were incapable of speech, and there was no need for it. They were two halves of one whole, and Ralph was the bonding agent, helping to glue them back together.

Eventually, Gail's tears were reduced to sniffles. "We're squishing poor Ralph," she quipped, looking down at the stuffed animal.

"I'm sorry, Ralph," Cas said in a thick voice. He tried to match her tone. "Well, at least we know that penguins like water."

Gail laughed softly, coming out of the embrace. "Let me get us some tissues," Cas said. He rose from the couch and hurried over to the other side of the room, where a box of Kleenex was sitting on an end table. He turned back around to see Gail hugging Ralph to her with both arms. He stood and looked at her for a moment, transfixed. She was so cute. He could see the little girl she used to be in her face, and it was a welcome sight for him. He would much rather see Gail like this than to see her as the female version of who and what Castiel himself had once been.

He brought the tissues back to where she sat and took a few out of the box, handing them to her. Then he took some for himself.

Once they had sniffled a bit more and wiped their faces, Gail put Ralph in the crook of her arm and took Cas's hand. "Let's go find a home for Ralph," she said. They walked to the bedroom together, and she looked around. "Right there," Gail said. She let go of Cas's hand and walked around the bed to the nightstand on her side of the bed. She leaned Ralph against the lamp there. "That'll be your home," she said to the stuffed animal.

Then Gail turned around and looked at Cas. "Although, I wonder if I should cover Ralph's eyes, now," she said softly. She started to smile. "I think he's about to witness some very improper behaviour."

Cas smiled, too. She was teasing now. "Not at all," he said, as she walked back around to where he was standing. "Penguins mate for life, as we do," Cas added. "I'm sure he'll understand."

He took his wife by the hand and gently laid her down on the bed. Cas unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the floor, then he lay on top of her.

"I'm going to kiss every inch of you, starting with your forehead on down," he told her. "And then, I'm going to go back up to the top, and do it all over again." He kissed her on the forehead, and Gail smiled. Then he slipped his hand under her nightshirt and touched her between her legs, and she gasped. "On second thought, let's just do this, first," he said charmingly. "We'll be able to take our time more easily, after the first or second time."

"Or third, or fourth," she breathed. She opened her legs wider. He stroked her once with his finger, and she was crying out immediately. "Cas, please," she moaned. "Please!" She touched him through his pants, and he jumped. "Please make love to me, right now," Gail begged him. "I don't want to wait, Cas. I can't. I need you."

He realized now that he was also too excited to wait. He needed to be inside of her, now. So he fumbled for his zipper with trembling hands and then pulled his pants off. He slid into her immediately, but as soon as he did, the feeling was so exquisite that he was almost afraid. "Don't move, Gail. Please, my darling, don't - " he started to say. But she was still reacting to his touch of a moment ago, and an instant later, they were both crying out with pleasure.

Cas made good on his promise to kiss her entire body about an hour later. They'd made love several more times after that first brief encounter, and by then, they'd both finally calmed down enough for Cas to be able to take his time with her.

He was currently kissing her stomach, and she was holding his head, stroking his hair. "I love you so much, Cas," she told him. "I missed this. I missed YOU. Even if we couldn't have made love, there were so many nights I wanted you to be there, to hold me when I was scared. That was why I became so hard. I had to protect myself, or else I would have gone crazy."

Cas paused. He looked up at her face. "I'm so sorry, my darling," he said. "I let you down. I should have been there for you." A tear squeezed out of the corner of his eye. She could feel it drip onto her stomach.

"No, Cas, please," Gail said to him. "Let's not start crying again. I'd much rather be smiling."

Cas's heart sank. He could make her extremely happy, he knew, but soon they would have to discuss the plan for tomorrow, and then she would be very unhappy again. But after his visit to Quinn's, Cas knew that it would be the only way.

Still, he could give her a bit more pleasure before he had to hurt her again. He looked down at her stomach again and saw that the tear he'd shed had pooled in her belly button, so he lapped at it with his tongue, making her giggle. Then he moved his head between her legs and used his tongue to make her cry out again. Then, when she was still, he made love to her once more.

They were laying together under the blanket catching their breath when Cas took her hand and placed it on his chest, where his heart was. "I love you so much, Gail," he began. "I need to make this right. And there's only one way to do that. We have to take the fight to Lucifer. Gabriel was right, and so was the Rom woman we met in Romania. We can't dance to the Devil's tune any more, my love."

"I agree, Cas," she said softly. "But how are we going to take the fight to Lucifer when we don't even know where he is?"

"We aren't going to go where he is," Cas replied evasively. Then he took a deep breath. No. No evasion was acceptable now. He had to tell her. "We need to finish what we started, Gail. We need to get the last item which is required to combine with the Tablets and put him away for good. We've wasted an entire year chasing our tails. It ends, now."

"But we don't know what the item is, Cas," she pointed out.

"That's very true," Cas said in a gentle tone. "That's why I went to Quinn's. That was the third place I went before I picked all of you up for the Christmas feast. I spoke to Linda, and she advised me that Luke knows what the item is. He likely knows where it is, as well. But he will have nothing to do with her, any more."

"OK, so if that's the case..." Gail started to say. Then, it dawned on her. "No, Cas. No. I don't want you to do what you're thinking of doing."

He put his hand on top of hers. "I have to, Gail. Like the animals we sacrificed at Christmas - "

She sat up. "Cas, I swear, if you finish that sentence, I'm going to pack a bag, and then, I'm going to leave you."

He looked at her, wrinkling his brow. "You wouldn't really do that, would you?"

She returned his gaze. "That depends. Would it make you change your mind?"

He was silent, and she heaved a sigh. "Never mind. I could never leave you, Cas. You know that," she said, resigned. "All right, finish what you were going to say, and then we'll have our argument." She lay back down, putting her head on his chest, and Cas smiled, despite how he was feeling. How did she do that? She'd made him smile over such a serious subject, and now he was almost looking forward to the argument. He would make his point, she would disagree, he would insist, she would reluctantly acquiesce, and then, they could sweetly make up. He wrapped his arms around his wife, cuddling her.

"Like the animals we sacrificed for the Christmas feast, I must sacrifice myself in order to do the right thing," Cas told her softly. "If Luke will no longer talk to Linda, I must go to the Netherworld and get the answers from him myself."

Gail tried to lay there calmly, but she was agitated now. "Why does it have to be you, Cas?" she protested. "Why can't it be me? Or any one of us? Why can't we draw straws to see who goes?"

"Because I'm the logical choice," he answered evenly. "Because I'm the only one of us who's already been there. And, since none of us knows for sure who is slated to go there, as the highest-ranking Angel left, it would be more likely for it to be me, than any of you. In addition, as you yourself have pointed out, my reputation precedes me. If I can't get him to tell me by persuasive means, I am the one he will fear the most."

She hated it. She absolutely hated it. And the worst part was, she couldn't fault any of his logic. He had thought it through, right down the line.

"I sinned in Pride, and all of you paid for my sins," Castiel continued. "I will interrogate Luke, and I will not come back until I have the information."

Gail sighed. "This stinks," she said. "It really does. And I can't even argue with you, because you're right. But I just want to go on record as saying how much I hate it."

"Duly noted." Cas swept the hair off her forehead and kissed her there. "As do I, my darling. We just got back together, and now I'll be leaving you again. But I promise you, it won't be for long."

"How are we going to kill you, but also make sure you come back?" she asked him curiously, shaking her head with disbelief that she was even speaking those words. "Am I going to take your essence inside me, like you did with mine that one time?"

Cas opened his mouth to speak, and then he stopped. He remembered what a wonderful feeling that had been, when he'd briefly had Gail's essence inside of him, after Lucifer's spell had compelled her to commit suicide. What an intimate experience that had been. She had no idea what kind of feeling that was. The thought of Gail having his essence inside of her excited him so much that he was at a loss for words for the moment. But then, he gave his head a shake. No. Too many things might go wrong. They'd better stick with the plan he already had in mind.

"I have it all worked out," Cas said lightly, "but right now, I wonder if you could do me a favour."

"What's that, Cas?" she asked him.

He took her hand, kissed it, and then put it on himself, underneath the covers. "Will you please tell me you love me?" he asked her sweetly.

She began to stroke him. "I love you so much, my husband," she told him. He rewarded her with a smile. Then she positioned herself by his mouth and took him in hers, and they moved together, pleasing each other.

When they were done, they talked quietly until sunrise. Mostly, Cas listened as Gail recounted her year on the road with Bobby and the Winchesters.

"We're going to need a giant, booze-filled make-up party after all of this is over," she mused aloud. "I was pretty hard on all of them."

Cas frowned. "I'm so sorry you were put in that position, Gail. But I have to say, Sam and Dean have never demonstrated their friendship more clearly to me. I'm grateful to them for helping to take care of you. But I wonder if you can tell me one thing: when Gabriel visited me, he made a reference to Bobby, doing something he shouldn't. Do you have any idea what that's about?"

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "No, I really don't, Cas. Unless he's talking about Bobby drinking too much, but that's not exactly a secret." She sighed. "That's something else that we might have to deal with in the future. But, one crisis at a time. But now, I have a question for you: Where is Gabriel, and why isn't he here, helping us?"

Cas was thoughtful. "I really don't know, Gail. I've been wondering that myself, ever since we rescued him from that military base. He's always been a capricious individual, but he told me that he had something more important going on."

She was incredulous. "More important?! What could be more important than defeating Lucifer?"

Cas kissed her on the nose, smiling faintly. "As a very wise person said recently, one crisis at a time."

"I love you, sweetie," Gail told him.

"I love you too, my darling," he replied. Then he sighed. "The sun is up now. We'll have to get ready to go to the bunker in a moment." He stroked her cheek with his finger, then kissed her on the mouth.

Gail poked her tongue out and Cas licked it eagerly. "We're going to have to stop," she said, even though she was the one who had started it, in a way. She was caressing his chest and shoulders now.

"Yes, we are," Cas said softly. He put his hand in-between her legs, and she opened them automatically. He caressed her thighs, and then his fingers touched her lightly.

"I'll have to get up in a minute and go to the shower," Gail added. She reached down and touched him with her fingertips, the same as he was doing to her, and he moaned. He moved forward, but she kept her hand just out of reach.

Cas gave up. Who was he kidding? A year apart was an eternity. But, as usual, they were just about out of time. He moved on top of her and thrust himself into her, and she smiled. She loved it when he was gentle, but she loved it even more when he was slightly aggressive.

Gail pulled his head down to hers and licked his lips. He moaned again, pushing harder into her. He kissed her with his tongue and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her body closer to his.

"I love you," Cas breathed. "Beyond words, beyond measure. I will spend the rest of my existence proving that to you."

He was proving it to her right now, Gail thought warmly, with some humour. She knew what he meant, of course, but right now it was all about the physical pleasure. He pulled back a bit and put his hand in-between her legs again. He stroked her with his finger as he pushed in and out of her. He was looking down at her, enjoying the expression of happiness on her face. Then he sped up his motion, and she was crying out loudly, saying his name, telling him how good it was. Then, he was telling her the same thing. He held her body tightly against his for a moment, his eyes shut tight, savouring the wonderful feeling. Then he withdrew from her. She reached for him, but he shook his head, smiling. He lifted her hips and bent to her, lapping at her with his tongue. She was writhing under him now, riding another wave of intense pleasure. He was amazing. He was everything.

Then she was spent, laying there weakly as he came back up to lay with her, taking her in his arms. They cuddled wordlessly for a few minutes, and then Cas said, ""I'm pretty sure Sam and Dean wanted to sleep in for a bit this morning, anyway."

Gail laughed softly. She kissed him on the lips, but it was just a quick peck this time. They really did need to get out of bed. "I love you, Cas," she told him. "Please promise me you'll come back to me as soon as possible. I can't stand to be apart from you anymore."

Cas kissed her on the forehead. "I feel the same way, my darling. Now please, take your shower. If you wait one more minute, I'll never be able to let you leave this bed."

She raised one eyebrow comically. "I'm trying to see a downside to that," she said mischievously. But she slid out from under the covers and padded off to the bathroom, because like it or not, they had their obligations. She wondered if there would ever be a day, even just one day, when they would be able to be completely selfish and self-indulgent. Then she laughed at herself. Yeah. As if. And while she was at it, she would ask for a rainbow unicorn, with wings.

Still, after the year they had all just had, she could rejoice in the fact that they were all still alive, and so was their love, even though some of their relationships had clearly taken a beating.

"I love you, sweetie," she said to Cas again as she headed off to the shower.

Cas smiled. "Why, I love you too, my darling. Merry Christmas."

"It is now," she replied, blowing him a kiss. It was funny, really; here they were, about to get dressed and go to the bunker, where they were going to kill her husband. Yet, she was the happiest she'd been in a very long time. How weird was that? Well, if nothing else, she had obviously grown a thicker skin in the past year. And that was probably a good thing, considering the hardships they always seemed to have to face, on a daily basis. But Gail never wanted to become as hard as she'd had to become out there. No. Never again.

She looked at Cas one more time. He was sitting up in bed now, with the pillows propped up behind him. He was still looking at her, and he was still smiling. The blankets were pooled around his waist, his torso was glistening with sweat, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. He was the cutest person she had ever seen. It was taking all of her will power not to just run back over to the bed and ask him if they could just stay here all day together.

Gail sighed, then headed off to the shower.

Once he could hear the water running, Cas leaned over and grabbed Ralph from his perch on the nightstand. He put the stuffed penguin on his lap. "Please look after her while I'm gone, Ralph," Cas said softly. "She's my whole life."

Ralph made no reply, of course. Castiel had never had a toy like Ralph growing up, but he could suddenly picture being a small child with a vivid imagination, talking to his constant companion. Bringing Ralph with him wherever he went. Now, Cas was that little boy, talking to his penguin best friend about all of the adventures they were going to have. They were going to travel the world and perform heroic feats. They were going to have lots of friends who they could love, and who would love them back. And then, as if all of that wasn't blessing enough, they were going to meet the most wonderful, most loving woman in the whole universe, and they were going to give her all the love they had in their hearts.

Cas kissed Ralph gently on his furry little beak, and then he looked around furtively. But Gail was still in the shower, and there was no one else here, of course. Out of everyone Cas loved, she was the one who most likely would have understood. But he was a man, not a child, and as cute as Ralph was, he was just a stuffed toy. Cas shook his head at his own foolishness. He gave Ralph a pat on his little penguin head and returned the stuffed toy to the nightstand.

"I was wondering, out of all of us, why you were the only one who didn't go crazy out there," Dean was saying to Cas. "And now you've answered my question: you did."

They were all standing around in the library area of the bunker. Cas had just explained his plan to the men, and they were all shaking their heads incredulously. "There's got to be another way, Cas," Sam said. "We'll find another way."

But Cas was shaking his head emphatically. "No, we won't, Sam. We can't. We can't afford to wait one more minute. I can't have any more deaths on my conscience."

Frank frowned at Gail. "Are you OK with this?"

"Of course not," she said. "But unless we can think of another way for Cas to talk to Luke in person, we have no choice but to do this. I agree with Cas; Lucifer has had it his way for far too long now. We've got to end this now, guys."

They all thought about it for another minute, each man looking at the other. But no one could come up with a better alternative.

"Crap," Chuck said morosely. "Sorry, Cas. I can't think of anything else."

Cas put his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Believe me, Chuck, I'd much rather we could think of another way, too," he said to their Angel friend. "But we're wasting time, now. Gail and I will accompany the four of you to the storage room. You'll paint a sigil on the door to keep me inside." He took a piece of paper out of his pants pocket, handing the drawing to Dean. "Then, one of you will stab me in the chest, and the other men will hold my vessel steady. As my essence flows out, Gail will trap it in the vial I have given to her. Presumably, once I am dead, Death will arrive, to escort me to the Netherworld. I will tell him of our plan. I'm banking on him supporting it. I don't believe he wants Lucifer running around unchecked, any more than we do."

"What if you're wrong?" Dean said worriedly. "You know how that guy can be sometimes."

Frank began to sweat. Were they really supposed to rely on the good graces of the Grim Reaper, here? And how weird was it that all of these guys were personally acquainted with Death, anyway? Just thinking about that made his skin crawl.

"Whatever we may think about him personally, Death has a sense of order, and dignity," Castiel said to his friends. "I'm sure he takes exception to Lucifer's tampering with the natural order, to the extreme extent that he has. In any event, I will converse with Death, and if I make it through to the Netherworld, I will communicate with you through Quinn. Then, I will go to work on Luke. He'll tell me what he knows, one way or the other."

It occurred to Sam to wonder what Cas could possibly threaten a dead guy in the Netherworld with, but he said nothing. Cas seemed pretty confident that he knew what he was doing. Maybe it was something between these old-timey Bible guys. Sam snuck a look at Gail. She was pale, and her expression was grim. Perversely, Sam was almost glad to see her that way. He had been extremely concerned about her when they'd been on the road. She'd had her toes over the edge of the pit to Hell by the end there, and only a gentle breeze would have been needed to tip her over. She seemed like herself again now, and Sam was very relieved. He and Dean had pretty much made up over a cup of coffee this morning, but they had a long history of bickering and making up. Sam felt like he understood Gail a lot better than Dean or Bobby did, so he harboured no resentment towards her for anything that had happened out there in the field in the past year. Dean might feel differently, but Sam's brother was playing his cards close to the vest on that score. Sam also thought that they might need a huge, booze-filled make-up party once this was all over.

"Please, let's just do this, before I lose my nerve," Gail said in a shaky voice. Cas took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, and the group moved down the hall to the storage room.

Dean painted the sigil on the door as Cas had instructed, as Cas stood talking quietly to Gail. She was beginning to tremble with fear now. Were they crazy? Why had she ever agreed to this? What if something went wrong? What if she dropped the vial? What if Death took Cas to the Netherworld, but just decided to leave him there? What if? What if?

Cas could see all of that and more in her eyes, and he touched her face. "Nothing will go wrong," he told her softly. "I trust you all implicitly. I will come back to you, my love, I promise you."

But then, they all just stood there. None of the men wanted to be the one to do it. "OK, which one of us is the most pissed off at Cas?" Frank joked nervously. He looked at Dean. "You guys have known him the longest. Surely he must have done something in all that time that makes you just wanna - "

Dean interrupted his friend. "Maybe we should have Gail do it." He looked at her. "Does he leave the seat up? Throw his smelly socks on the floor? Let's see, what else do women hate?"

Gail's lips were so tightly pressed together now they almost disappeared. "I know you guys think you're being funny, but you're really not. Please, we need to get this over with."

Cas handed his Angel blade to Sam. "I would like you to do it, Sam. Please," he said.

Sam looked at Cas curiously, but then he accepted the blade. "OK, Cas," he said quietly. Frank and Dean were who they were, but even though this was going to hurt Sam a lot, he knew that every second they delayed was hurting Gail a hundred times more. Obviously, Cas knew that, out of all of them, Sam was the most likely one to have thought of that.

Cas looked at his friends. "Ready?" he asked them. They all nodded silently. No more jokes, now. Gail held the vial open and at the ready. "I love you, Gail," Cas told her, "and I'll be seeing you all again, very soon." He looked at Sam. "Do it, Sam. Please."

Sam took a deep breath, then stabbed Cas in the chest with Cas's Angel blade. Cas opened his mouth, and the blue essence began to flow out. Gail moved forward with the open vial and gathered it up, as the men held his vessel upright and steady. Gail kept her eyes wide and her hands from shaking, making sure she got it all. There would be plenty of time later to freak out about the sight of one of her best friends, killing her husband. Right now, Cas was depending on her.

Once the vial was filled, Gail capped it tightly, and then she threaded it onto a chain, and put the chain around her neck. Then she gave the vial a soft kiss and dropped the chain down her top so it was resting next to her heart.

Dean was looking at her. "What?" Gail asked him.

"That's just the kind of chick-flick, romance novel crap I would expect to see out of you," Dean said bluntly. Then he smiled. "Welcome back."

Gail tried to return his smile, but it was difficult right now. Sam pulled the blade out of Cas's chest, and it was wet with her husband's blood. Sam threw her an apologetic glance. Gail felt like she was going to throw up as Dean, Frank and Chuck kept Cas's body from falling to the floor.

"We'll take him to your old room here," Sam said softly. He stashed the bloody knife in his pocket and picked up one of Cas's legs. Now, all four men were holding Cas as if they were pallbearers. Gail felt panicked, grief-stricken. What the hell had they done? She touched her chest, where the vial was. That was just his vessel they were holding, she told herself. The real Cas was here, nestled against her heart. Still, as the men carried Cas's body out of the storage room, his head fell back, and a lock of his hair fell across his forehead. She kept staring at that lock of hair. Then, she broke. She wept all the way down the hall.

Once they had laid Cas down on the bed, Gail sat next to him and held his hand, still crying. She swept the lock of hair back with her other hand. The men all looked at each other uncomfortably.

Chuck couldn't take it anymore. This was reminding him way too much of the time that Cas had been executed, after the tribunal. Gail had lost her mind, then. She'd sat by Cas's body holding his hand then, too, talking to him as if he was still alive.

Chuck put his hands lightly on Gail's shoulders. "He'll be fine, Gail," her Angel friend said.

She felt a momentary flare of anger. Just how in the hell would Chuck know? It was easy for him to say, wasn't it? But she bit her lip. No. That wasn't who she wanted to be.

"Let's go, kiddo," Frank said now. "We have to get over to Quinn's, so you and Mr. Kissyface can be reunited."

Gail tried to smile. She really was lucky to have so much support. Even from Sam, who had taken the knife from Cas when he'd asked and had the courage to do what needed to be done. It must have really hurt him to do that to Cas. It must have hurt all of them. Gail knew she wasn't the only one who loved Cas. Just because she felt like she loved him the most didn't mean she was going to start a contest over it.

Frank had gotten through to her, though. He was right; they had to get over to Quinn's. If Cas had been able to successfully cross over to the Netherworld, he was going to try to pierce the veil right away, to let them know he had arrived there.

She sprang to her feet. "Let's go."

"I have to make a quick pit stop, first," Sam told them. "I'll meet you guys in the library in a minute."

Frank, Dean and Chuck escorted Gail down the hall, as Sam ducked quickly into his room. He grabbed a change of clothes, then washed up at the bathroom sink, rinsing Cas's blood off himself, and off of the blade. If it had been anybody else's blood, he could have just asked Gail to clean him. But Sam couldn't have asked her to do that, any more than he could have sat down with her at the seance table with her husband's blood on his hands, and on his clothes. How insensitive would that have been? And also, he didn't want to show up at Quinn's looking all bloody, either.

Gail noticed that Sam was cleaned up when he rejoined their group, and she gave him a brief smile of acknowledgement. He offered Cas's blade to her, but she shook her head. "You keep it for now, Sam, just in case," she said. She patted her pants pocket. "I have mine."

"So, what's the plan?" Bobby asked the group.

"When we get to Quinn's, hopefully we're going to be able to talk to Cas right away," Gail told him. "Ideally, he'll have Linda take him to Luke's place, and then he can go to work on him."

"We'll probably have him back by lunchtime," Dean said heartily. "We all know how persuasive he can be."

"We'll be back as soon as we can, Bobby," Sam said. "Hold down the fort."

Gail grabbed Frank and Dean's hands, and Chuck took Sam's. Then they winked out.

"Well, well. If it isn't Yissa, himself," Death said dryly. "To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?"

"I think you know the answer to that question," Castiel said stiffly.

"Yes, I do, and may I say, it's about time," Death replied. "This farce needs to end, Castiel."

"I agree. That's why I'm here," Cas said. "I need to go to the Netherworld and get the information we seek from Luke, so we can end this, once and for all."

Death stared at Castiel impassively. If the Angel only knew what lay ahead, he might not be so eager. But at least Castiel was finally doing the right thing. Order had to be restored. Lucifer was like a petulant child, throwing his toys all over the playroom. He had become a real thorn in Death's side, and he needed to be dealt with before the big sharks started to circle. As horrible as the past year may have been for most of Castiel's family and friends, Death knew that they hadn't really seen anything, yet.

"Do you know whether your brother will stand with you, when the time comes?" Death asked Castiel.

Cas frowned. He honestly had no idea. "I have not spoken to Crowley in over a year," he told Death in a clipped tone. "We've had many other things to deal with."

"I'm aware," Death said, just as shortly. Then, after a moment, he said, "I will help you. I'll escort you to Linda Tran's cottage. She will guide you from there. But, make no mistake, Castiel. I do not exist to be at your beck and call, nor am I in any way obligated to assist any one of you. I'm only helping you now because Lucifer must be removed from the game board. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Cas said tersely. He regarded Death evenly, trying not to show his immense relief. He hadn't let on to Gail, but this had been a dicier proposition than he'd originally let on. Death valued his autonomy, and he was a querulous individual sometimes. If he thought that Castiel just expected him to help them, he would more than likely turn around and refuse. But if Death was given the room to be magnanimous, he would usually elect to be. But the choice would have to appear to be Death's.

"How did you get here?" Death asked him curiously. Castiel nearly did a double-take. Death actually did sound curious, too. That was a human emotion, as far as Castiel was aware. He couldn't recall Death ever having exhibited any human qualities before, except for the odd quirk he had about food. Cas almost smiled. Maybe they were all rubbing off on him, a little. But Death had a dour expression on his face now, so perhaps Cas had better just stick with the program. So he briefly described the scene back at the bunker.

Death raised an eyebrow but said nothing. If Castiel's friends thought the Angel was inscrutable, Death had raised that quality to an art form.

"Let's go, then," Death said, and Castiel took his arm.

They were all sitting around the table in the seance room, waiting for Quinn to draw the drapes, when Gail got a message over Angel Radio. It was Ethan, calling to tell her that Kevin was losing it. The young Prophet had come to Ethan's apartment in Heaven a short while ago, and he'd been shaking all over. After Ethan had let him in, Kevin had started to cry, telling his friend that he had let everyone down. He'd proceeded to tell Ethan that he was responsible for Matt and the others having been killed.

"He's saying he can't be trusted to be a team member anymore," Ethan told her worriedly. "He's even talking about quitting his job. He's worrying me, Gail. It sounds like he's got a textbook case of PTSD."

Gail felt for Kevin, she really did. But she also felt a little annoyed. Kevin and his problems would have to wait. She told Ethan what they had just done, where they were, and what they were doing. But then, it occurred to her what she should do. It was pretty much staring her right in the face.

"Quinn, can you hold on just a second?" Gail asked the medium. "I'll be right back." Then she smiled. "Do you mind if I just pop out from here? It's not like you don't know who we are, and what we're all about."

"I work with spirits," Quinn replied, answering her smile. "I think I can handle it."

"Where are you going, Gail?" Dean asked her sharply.

She looked at him for a moment. That had been a weird tone. "Problem, Dean?" she said coolly.

"You're wearing my best friend around your neck," he said to her. "I don't think you should be going anywhere alone right now, do you?"

Gail smiled with relief. He was worried about Cas's safety, that was all. She walked around the table and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. "After all of this is over, you and I are going to get drunk together, and then we're going to hug it out for about an hour," Gail told him. "But right now, I'm going straight to Heaven, and then I'm coming straight back. No detours, I promise. Okay?"

"Take Chuck with you, then," Frank said. Gail opened her mouth to protest, and then she realized that she was being silly. "OK, you guys," she sighed. "If it'll make you feel better." She extended her hand to Chuck. "Care to take a lady to Heaven?"

"Man, it's been ages since I've had an invitation like that," Chuck quipped. "Too bad you're married."

The other men laughed. That had been a pretty good one. After all this time, Chuck was finally growing on Sam and Dean.

The Angels winked out, and Quinn did a double-take, despite her assurances that it wouldn't faze her. Sam smiled at her reaction. "Yeah, I know," he said to her. "We're more used to it than you, but it's still a little disconcerting."

"Just wait till they come back," Dean added. "That still freaks me out, every time."

"It's good to see you again," Quinn said to the men. "And it's good to hear that everyone is all right. Well, you know what I mean. Everyone from your group, anyway," she added hastily. "I can only imagine what it was like out there for all of you. I kept watching the news every night, praying that it would end."

"Well, it's gonna," Frank said testily. "That's what we're here for."

Quinn was looking at Gail's brother. She could tell just by looking at his face that this past year had been hard on him. She hadn't even needed to shake his hand; all she'd had to do was look at his hair, and his face. But when she had shaken his hand, she'd picked up on something. Frank's son was psychic. She wondered how he and Jody were coping with that. Quinn knew from personal experience how hard that could be on a family, and her gift, for lack of a better term, was only of intermediate power. She sensed that Robbie's, or Rob, as he liked to be called now, was much stronger than that. But the good news was that she could no longer see any medical issues with Jody in the foreseeable future, and while she might not have gotten that anyway from merely shaking Jody's husband's hand, it didn't come across as a concern for the couple any more, at least. Quinn was relieved. If there was anything that this group wouldn't need right now, it would be more bad news.

Suddenly, Gail reappeared with Chuck, and Kevin was with them. Despite her alleged aplomb, Quinn jumped in her chair.

"Told you," Dean smirked.

Quinn grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I hope you don't mind, Quinn," Gail said to the psychic. "I thought that Kevin could use a visit with his mom." She looked at the young Prophet. "Please sit down between Chuck and Frank," she instructed him. "After we see Cas, and make sure...well, just make sure, you and your mother can have a private visit. But we have to get our business done, first. OK?"

"Yeah, Gail. Thanks," Kevin replied, taking his seat. "Hi, Quinn."

"Hi, Kevin," Quinn responded. She had no idea what was going on here, but she thought it could be a good idea for Kevin and Linda to have a chat. It looked to her as if Kevin had been crying.

As soon as everything was dark and they all held hands, Linda appeared. "Oh, thank God," she said. "Thank God. Is everyone OK? Kevin, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I guess so, Mom," he replied quietly.

"Where's Cas?" Gail blurted out.

"Cas?" Linda echoed.

Gail's heart stopped. "Yes, Cas! Isn't he there with you?"

"No," Linda said, puzzled. "Why would he be?"

Gail's eyes grew wide. Oh, no. No. "Because he's - we - " She lost her words. She looked at Sam, panicked. "Sam, get that blade ready, because if we've killed Cas for no reason, you're going to have to kill me, too," she said, her voice trembling.

"Wait a second," Linda said. "I'll be right back." She vanished.

"Oh, my God," Gail said in an anguished voice. "Oh, my God!" She clutched at Frank. "What are we going to do? Where could he be? How can we find him?"

Dean was mad. Ever since the death squads, anger always seemed to be his go-to response. "Well, it was a stupid idea, to begin with," he said bluntly.

"You are about two steps away from an ass-kicking," Gail hissed, turning on him and pointing her finger. "Either say something constructive or shut the hell up."

"You're not my team leader any more, Gail," Dean shot back. "Thanks for that year that I'll never get back, by the way."

"Are you actually implying that this past year was somehow my fault?" she said, raising her voice. "Because if you are, we're gonna go, right now!"

"Stop trying to be your husband, Gail," Dean said pointedly. "That's not you."

"I'm not - " Gail threw her hands up in frustration. How could she even respond to a comment like that?

"Well, I am, and I'm telling both of you to stop it," Cas said sternly. He and Linda had reappeared in the middle of the room.

Both Gail and Dean looked at him with such joy and relief that Cas softened his tone. "I'm gone one hour, and already, you two are arguing," Cas continued with a faint smile. "I'd better get this done quickly, then."

Gail jumped up from the table and ran over to hug her husband, but her arms went right through him when she tried. Linda touched Gail's arm.

"Umm, that's not going to work," Linda told Gail. "And you should pray it won't, either. New arrivals don't have what you Winchesters would call a corporeal form. Basically, the longer you're here, the more solid you become."

"I won't be here long enough for that to happen," Cas said to Gail. "But, I wish I could hold you right now. I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to scare you. Death escorted me here, but he wanted to have a conversation, first. So it took me a little bit longer to get here, that's all."

Gail was so relieved she felt light-headed. She walked back to her chair and sank slowly into it, not taking her eyes off Cas. She'd been so scared.

"I only had a moment to fill Linda in on our plan," Cas told everyone.

"And I think it's a good one," Linda said, giving Dean a momentary glare. "If anybody will be able to get the information out of Luke, it'll be Cas. We have to try anything we can to get this done."

No kidding, Frank thought. He'd been a little bit startled to witness how Dean and Gail had talked to each other a few minutes ago. Frank knew that everything had been far from fine out there on the road for his sister. Bobby'd told them some things last night that had been hard to hear. They were all going to have some work ahead of them as far as their relationships went. Rob was barely speaking to him and Jody right now. Hopefully, Frank's wife would be able to make some inroads with the boy while Frank was gone. Now that Robbie - no, Rob - had grown up so quickly, it was hard for Frank to know exactly how to deal with him. Kids were easy; all you had to do was pick them up and spin them around, or make a funny face, and they were yours. Relating to them when they got older, and wanted to have real conversations, was a lot harder. And Frank knew he'd really let Rob down. But what were the choices, here? He was trying to make the world a safe place for Rob to live in. Surely, the kid had to understand that. And it wasn't as if Rob had been abandoned or neglected. It wasn't as if he'd had to go on the run with his young sister, alone and scared, scrounging for every meal and a roof over their heads, always looking over his shoulder. No. Rob had had a nice warm bed to sleep in, endless entertainment, gourmet meals, and everyone's love and concern, while his parents had been knee-deep in blood, watching their friends die. And now, Rob was acting as if he hated them. Well, after things sorted themselves out here, Frank and his son were gonna sit down and have a nice long conversation. He was going to suggest that maybe Gail and Dean should do that, too. That was, if his sister wasn't too nuts by then. They'd better get Cas back quick, or she was going to lose her shit.

"I'm going to take Cas to Luke's house right now," Linda told them. "Hopefully, he'll be back very soon."

"Hold up, Linda," Gail said. "Do you think you could come back after you've done that? Then you and Kevin can have a visit, if you've got time."

Linda laughed shortly. "Are you kidding? I've got nothing BUT time. Thank you for bringing him, Gail. I'll get Cas over there, and then I'll be back in a few minutes."

"I'll see you very soon," Cas told the group. "Linda tells me that she can appear here on her own now, so when I'm ready to come back, I'll ask her to let you know. Then I'll meet Death at the Portal, and I presume that he'll send you a sign that I'm ready to be reanimated."

"Yeah? What's he gonna send?" Frank joked nervously. "A raven with a black feather in its beak? A rotten fruit basket?"

Cas smiled grimly. "Please take care of your sister for me until I can get back, Frank," he said. Then he took Linda's hand, and then they were gone.

They all sat back in their chairs, releasing each other's hands. Then Sam started to laugh. "'A rotten fruit basket'?" he said to Frank. "That was actually pretty funny."

Frank shrugged. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a pretty funny guy."

"Yeah, but looks don't count," Dean said, smirking.

Gail was quiet. It had been so weird to see Cas like that. He came across as confident, but now, Gail started to wonder, just the same as Sam had been doing earlier. She doubted very much that Luke was going to just cooperate. And, as scary as Castiel could be to their enemies, what could he possibly threaten Luke WITH? Torture? Or would that even work in the Netherworld?

Linda reappeared. "So, I've got Cas fixed up," she told her friends. "He seems really determined to get this thing done. I almost feel sorry for Luke."

"OK, we'll leave you and Kevin to have your visit, then," Gail said, rising from her chair.

"I'll come with," Quinn said casually. "Linda doesn't need our connection anymore." She looked at Kevin. "Just come out to the living room when you're done. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can put together some snacks."

They all left the room, and then Kevin and his mother were alone.

"What's the matter, Kevin?" Linda said immediately. "Why have you been crying?"

Kevin looked at her. "Oh, do you mean besides the fact that thousands of humans just died over the past year? Humans we couldn't save?"

"Don't get smart with me, Kevin," Linda said sharply. "You're not too old for me to give you a smack, if you really need it."

Kevin was silent for a moment, and then he told his mother what had happened on that day, and about the fact that he felt responsible.

"We could have been there to help them, if I'd only woken Frank up," Kevin said miserably. "They trusted me, Mom, and I let them down." He started to cry silent tears again.

Linda regarded him soberly for a minute. Her heart hurt for her son. The past year had obviously been very hard on all of her friends. Linda had noticed Frank's salt-and-pepper hair and gaunt face, and Dean and Gail's angry exchange. "That must have been very hard for you," she said quietly.

Kevin waited, but that was all his mother had to say. She did come closer, though, and she laid her hand on his shoulder. It was comforting to feel his mother's touch, after all this time. "Is that all you have to say, Mom?" he asked her.

Linda gave his shoulder a squeeze, and then she moved back so that she could look at his face again. "That's all I CAN say, really," she replied. "I wasn't there. But, you were, and you made a judgement call. Maybe it WAS the wrong call. But, you're a man now, Kevin. I'm not going to coddle you, and I'm not going to sugar-coat it, like I used to do when you were a boy. It might have been a mistake, but you know what? We all make them. I should have tried harder to keep my temper with Luke; then maybe Cas wouldn't have had to come here. And look at all the mistakes Cas has made over the years. Besides, we don't know for sure that it even WAS a mistake, do we? We don't know when those men were killed, or how many people they fought with, or when."

"But we could have been there with them, Mom," Kevin said sadly.

Linda let out a breath. "All right, Kevin. OK. Let me ask you this, then: how many lives did you and your team save? How many healings did you perform? You were the only Angel on your team, so it must have been quite a few. And all of your team members are still alive, aren't they?"

"Yeah, but - "

"But? But, nothing. Think about it, Kevin. I know those men were your friends, but they knew the risks going in, didn't they? So do you. So did I. And now, you're in Heaven, and I'm stuck here. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. But we always have to do what's right, regardless. I know you know that, son. That's the way I raised you. I'm very proud of you, Kevin. Hold your head high."

"Thanks, Mom," he said, nodding. What she'd said had made a lot of sense. He'd known that, of course, but Kevin had spent so much time moping over the ones they couldn't save that he'd almost forgotten about the ones that they had. And there'd been a lot more of the latter. "I appreciate your talking to me like an adult," he blurted out.

"Well, you are one," Linda responded. "You've matured a lot since I've been gone. Maybe my being sent here had another silver lining, besides getting all that Tablet information."

Kevin smiled sadly. "I wish you were back in Heaven, Mom. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Kevin. I love you with all my heart," Linda said. "Are you going to be all right?"

Kevin sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I am, Mom. We all are. We have to be. I think I'll talk to Frank when we leave here. Get some closure."

Linda was impressed. Once again, she was struck by how mature her son was now. He was going to be just fine. She moved forward again and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "OK, now, get going," she said to her son. "I can't be hanging around here all day, you know. I've got to be available for Cas. If we don't get him back there soon, Gail will probably have one of you killing HER next." Then she winked out, leaving Kevin to sit there alone in the dark.

Linda sat at the kitchen table in her cottage having a good, solid cry of her own. Then she put on the kettle and sat, waiting for Cas.

"I really didn't want to bother you with this, but since we've got some time, maybe I'd better tell you that Oliver is still here," Quinn said to the group. She was looking specifically at Gail. "I guess you've been way too busy to have a look at his journal."

"You've got that right," Gail agreed. She looked at Sam. "I completely forgot about that, to be honest. Do you think your FBI guy still has it?"

Sam looked thoughtful. "Probably. But, looking on the bright side, he'll have had more than enough time to work on it by now. That's if he wasn't sidelined by all that other stuff, of course. But, I doubt he would have been; he's not a crime scene guy."

"You might want to follow up with him, then," Quinn told them. "Oliver's been pretty persistent. He's been showing up at all kinds of inconvenient times. My clients are getting unnerved, to be honest."

"Well, I'm sorry that some housewives won't get their cards read at their convenience, but we've been literally wading in blood and guts for a year," Gail said harshly.

Quinn looked at her, startled. "I'm sorry," she stammered. She put her hand on Gail's arm. "I didn't mean - " Then she bit off the sentence. My God. Quinn saw a tall, handsome man standing over two dead bodies. Blood was splashed all over the walls, and it was on the man's hands. He was dipping his fingers in the blood, painting his cheeks and forehead with it. Then he threw his head back and laughed, and the laugh Quinn heard in her head was so chilling that her hand flew off Gail's arm immediately.

"What did you see, Quinn?" Gail asked her in an even tone.

"What? What do you mean?" the psychic said evasively.

"Come on, Quinn. It takes one to know one. I used to be able to lay my hands on someone and have their whole life in my head in just a few seconds," Gail replied. "So, I repeat: what did you see?"

"Your father, standing over two dead bodies, in a room covered in blood," Quinn told her, "and he was laughing."

Gail felt like she'd just been slapped in the face. She looked at Frank, open-mouthed. "Oh, my God, Frank," she breathed.

"Your father?" Frank exclaimed. "Your father was there?"

"Oh, God," Gail said, putting her head in her hands. "God, no. Please don't tell me that my father killed them. Please don't tell me that, Quinn."

"I can't tell you that," the medium replied. "I can't tell you anything else. That's all I know. That's all I saw. I swear."

Gail raised her head and looked Quinn in the eyes. She appeared to be telling the truth, but she also looked and sounded scared. Then again, Gail supposed that most normal people would be frightened by a sight like that. So would Gail have been, a few years ago. Nowadays, that was an all-too-common occurrence. Over the past year, that would have been what Gail would have considered a slow day. She heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry I spoke to you like that, Quinn," Gail said. "I've just been under a lot of stress lately. Lucifer's killing the crap out of people, I'm wearing my dead husband around my neck, and apparently, my real father is Hitler and Charles Manson's love child. So, do me a favour: tell Oliver he's got to take a number." She stood up. "I'm going to step outside for a minute. I need a breath of fresh air."

They all looked at each other for a moment after she left. Then, Frank quipped, "Rock, paper, scissors?"

Dean stood. "Don't bother. I never win at that game. Ever." He sighed. "It better be me. We've got some making up to do, anyway."

Dean walked outside. Gail was standing on the lawn, looking up at the sky.

"Homesick?" Dean wisecracked. He walked over to where she stood. "Man, it sucks to be you right now, doesn't it?" he said to her.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Go ahead and tell me how selfish I'm being."

"I'm not gonna do that, because I don't think you are being selfish," Dean replied. "After the year we've just had, the last thing you needed was a dead husband, and finding out that your father might have killed your brother's parents. Are you sure you don't like country music? 'Cause I''m pretty sure there's a helluva song in there, somewhere."

Gail's lips started to twitch. "You know what, Dean? You're usually pretty good at these pep talks, but this one kind of stinks. I don't feel any better."

"There are some things even I can't fix," Dean said lightly.

She turned to him and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, Dean. I don't want to fight with you anymore. I swear I don't."

Dean embraced her. "Neither do I, Gail," he told her. He pulled out of the hug and looked down at her face. "You know why we fight so much, don't you? It's because we're so much alike," he said.

"You and I are alike?" Gail asked him, surprised. "How do you figure that?"

"If you promise not to tell anybody what I said, I'll tell you," Dean replied.

Gail was intrigued. "OK, I promise. Tell me."

Dean gave her one more squeeze, and then he said, "We both feel things too much, we both love people too intensely, and we both think that everything that goes wrong is our fault."

Gail was astonished. With one neat sentence, he'd hit the nail right on the head. "You know who else you just described, right?"

"Cas," they said together, and then they shared a brief laugh.

"Why do you think we're his favourites?" Dean said. He leaned down, touching his forehead to hers. "Plus, we're awesome. That's the other thing we have in common."

Gail touched his face. "What can I say? When you're right, you're right," she said, smiling.

"Good deal. Now give me one more hug, and then let's get back inside." Dean gestured to her chest. "I don't want Major Buzzkill there to come back and kick my ass for making out with his wife."

"I think he would just be glad that we're not fighting anymore," she said to him. "I don't think he was too pleased with us back there. We might have to go into a time-out when he gets back." Then Gail smiled mischievously. "I'll look forward to the stern talking-to he'll give me when he and I go home."

Dean groaned. "Now, see? You and I were having a moment, and now you've gone and ruined it. I don't need to hear junk like that, Gail." But now, he was grinning.

"What?" she said innocently. "I'm just talking about having a conversation. I don't know what dirty, disgusting, extremely satisfying stuff you could be referring to."

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again. He really couldn't improve on that, and she deserved to have the last word this time. So he slung his arm around her shoulders, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and took her back to the house.

"Hello, Luke," Cas said calmly, when the Gospel writer answered his door.

"Hello," Luke responded, wrinkling his forehead. "Who are you?"

"A concerned individual," Cas said in reply. "Can we converse for a few moments?"

Luke's eyes narrowed. Why would an Angel want - His blood ran cold. "Castiel?" he said fearfully. He started to close the door, but Cas stopped it with his hand.

"I don't think so," Cas said quietly. "Our talk is long overdue, and we're going to have it now." He strode forward, pushing the door open. Luke stepped back, open-mouthed. How was Castiel here? Had his Master killed the Angel?

"You and I are going to have a civilized conversation," Cas said to Luke. "You are going to tell me what I need to know, and then I will leave you here, in peace." He walked further into the house, looking around. It was a nice enough home. Cas had seen all kinds of structures on his and Linda's walk here. Linda herself had a lovely little cottage by the lake. It would be a nice, serene place to live out her existence, Linda had told Cas, if she wanted to be here. But without any of her friends or family, it was a lonely, pointless existence. That was why she had been so excited to be helping with the Tablets. But now, she didn't even have that, any more. Maybe some people would look on her life here as a blessing, but Linda regarded it as more of a curse. Cas could understand that. There was a time when he wouldn't have minded leading such a solitary life, probably because he'd spent centuries all by himself, for the most part. But now, Cas had a family, and to even contemplate being here without them was unbearable. He felt badly for Linda. Just another thing that Lucifer had to be brought to account for.

"What makes you think I'm willing to talk to you?" Luke said insolently. "Just the fact that you're here speaks volumes. If Lucifer has killed you, then your people have lost. They will fragment without you there to lead them, and then they will fall, one by one."

Cas smiled coldly. "I've got news for you, Luke. Lucifer didn't kill me. My friends did. Now, let's have that chat."

"Why don't you pop us back to the bunker for a bit?" Frank said to his sister. "Since we're just hanging around waiting anyway, I'd like to spend a bit of time with Rob. Reconnect a little. God only knows where we'll be going next, for this last thing. I'd really like it if he's at least speaking to me before we have to hit the road again."

Gail was looking at him with sympathy. "I keep forgetting that I'm not the only one who's been put through the wringer," she said to him in a subdued tone. "I feel like I should be apologizing to you." She glanced at Quinn, thinking about what the psychic had said about her father. "Maybe for a lot of things," Gail finished uncomfortably.

"Let's all go," Dean said. "We've probably all got some stuff we could be doing while we wait." He looked at Gail. "And it'll make the wait not seem as long. Quinn, can you call Sam as soon as you hear anything?"

Quinn was nodding. "Here, I'll give you Cas's cell number as a back-up," Gail said. She pulled his phone out of her pocket. They'd agreed she would carry it for the time being, just in case. Besides, she highly doubted the Netherworld had a good service provider.

"Wow, now that's trust," Chuck quipped.

Gail rolled her eyes. "I doubt Cas has anything on here he would want to hide from me," she said, entering Cas's password. It was her name, of course. She smiled warmly at that.

"Yeah, who's he gonna be calling?" Frank said, grinning. "Dial-A-Prayer?"

"He IS Dial-A-Prayer," Kevin piped up, and he and Chuck high-fived smartly.

Gail was still smiling. She gave Quinn Cas's number, and entered Quinn's number in his Contacts list. Frank was looking over her shoulder. "Don't tell me he's finally got a Contacts list," her brother said.

Gail's smile grew wider. They were always teasing Cas about his issues with technology. After years of Winchester nagging, Cas had finally set up a Voice Mail and now, she was helping him to enter information into his phone. "It's a process," she told Frank. She touched her chest, where the vial of her husband's essence was nestled. Sorry, sweetie. I miss you so much. Please hurry back, she prayed silently. Please. We need you. I need you.

They all popped back to the bunker, and Sam looked at Gail. "I think I'd better give my guy a call about that journal," he told her softly. Gail nodded. She guessed so, too. Lucifer still came first, of course, but she supposed she'd better find out what was so important in that damn journal, if for no other reason than just to shut Oliver up.

"I'll be back in a few," Dean said. He headed down the corridor.

"Me too," Frank said. He was right behind Dean.

Gail sighed, but she understood. They'd all been gone from here, and away from their lives, for an entire year. Of course they had things that they wanted to do, to try to return to a sense of normalcy. If such a thing was even possible.

But she had nothing to do. Her whole life was in the vial around her neck. She went down the hall to their old room and drew up a chair beside Cas's vessel on the bed. She sat there and looked at him for a while, imagining he was sleeping. Then, after a few minutes, she crawled onto the bed and lay down beside him. They might think it was weird, and it probably was, but it comforted her. She began talking softly to him.

"What do you mean, you don't know where it is?" Sam asked his contact.

"Just what I said," Theo replied. "I had a lot on my plate here, so I didn't get to it right away. I put it on my desk, but then I got sick and I had to stay home for a few days. When I came back to work, it was gone. I asked around, but no one remembered seeing it. We had a new guy doing the mail, and he said he thinks he might have picked it up and taken it to the evidence locker by mistake."

"So it's in the evidence locker," Sam said.

"I didn't say that," Theo answered. "I said it MIGHT be. I didn't hear back from you, so I moved on to other things. That was over a year ago, Sam, and we've had a lot going on here, as I'm sure you're aware. I'm not even gonna ask you where you've been this past year. I'm sure I don't want to know."

Sam smiled grimly. "No, you don't, Theo." They had an unspoken agreement between them not to discuss Sam and Dean's activities, many of which were against the law, strictly speaking. "Anyway, can we retrieve the journal, and do you think you might have some time to work on it for us?"

Theo sighed. "Well, at least the mass murders seem to have stopped. Now, we're back to just the normal amount of crime. I'll tell you what. I'll see if the mail guy can start looking around in the evidence locker for it. But it's a big room, Sam. It may take some time to find it."

"OK, thanks, Theo. Let me know," Sam said. He hung up. Crap. Oh, well. They had other things to worry about right now, anyway. He headed to the kitchen to put on some coffee.

"Thank God you're all right," Nicole said, sighing with relief. "I was so worried. I knew you guys would be out there, fighting. I saw Gail's brother on CNN with that other guy. It was all anybody could talk about for a while."

"Where have you been?" Dean asked her. "What have you been doing?"

"I've been in Vancouver for most of the year," she told him. "We were supposed to go back to Egypt after the Christmas break when I saw you guys last, but then they shut down production. I guess a movie didn't seem all that important, not compared to the murders of thousands of people worldwide. So Richard called us all and told us to stay at home until further notice. But then, about a week ago, he called us all back and told us that Cas had called him and told him it was safe for us to go back to Egypt. So we're back here now, finally. So, is everybody OK? Are you back home for good now? What happened to Lucifer?"

Dean filled her in on what was going on, without giving her too many details. She didn't need to hear about the blood and dead bodies, and she certainly didn't need to hear that they had just murdered Cas as part of the effort to remove Lucifer from the earth. Cas. Dean couldn't believe his Angel friend had actually called Richard to give him the green light to go back to Egypt. He must really want that movie made. Dean would have to remember to tease Cas about that when Cas came back. And Dean had no doubt that his friend would come back, too. Cas had a rich history of overcoming the odds.

"Did you see any of those...squads up there in Canada?" Dean asked Nicole.

She smiled grimly. "Well, I can't speak for the whole country, but we didn't see anything like that here in Vancouver. We always joke that nobody really cares about Canada; I guess Lucifer doesn't, either. Thank God, might I add."

"I miss you," Dean told her. "I promise you, as soon as we take care of that assclown, you and I will get together."

"'Assclown'. I like that," Nicole smirked. "And yeah, we will. You still owe me that Christmas present."

Dean grinned. It felt good to be able to smile like this again, and it was good to see her face, and see her smiling, too. He couldn't wait for the opportunity to see that smile of hers in person again, and hopefully, they'd both be naked at the time.

"I'd better go, Dean," Nicole said. "The bus is due here in about five minutes."

"And he doesn't like to be kept waiting," Dean said. "I remember." Boy, did he. That was when he had blurted out that he loved her that one time. He'd been planning to talk with her about that during the holidays after they'd left Cas and Gail's house, but of course, that had never happened.

Nicole was still smiling. She remembered that day, too. Not that she was going to bring it up now, of course. The time to talk about that particular subject would be when they were together in person, between hugs and kisses. She had missed him, too. But they were more than an ocean apart now, and the bus driver really didn't like to be kept waiting.

"I'll talk to you soon," she said. "Keep me posted, when you can. Say hi to Cas and Gail and Sam for me." Then Nicole closed her laptop.

Things weren't going nearly as well in Rob's room. When Frank opened the door and walked in, Rob shouted, "Hey! Don't you knock?" He was sitting at his computer, clicking furiously to save and then minimize the story he was working on.

"Why?" Frank said, moving forward. "What are you trying to hide from me?"

Rob frowned, sitting back in his chair. "Nothing," he said shortly.

"Really? Well then, you won't mind if I take a look. Right?" Frank said casually, reaching for the mouse. Rob said nothing. "Right?" Frank repeated, with a bit of an edge to his voice.

Rob shrugged. "I don't care. Look, if you want."

"So, no porn? I don't know if I will look, then. What fun is that?" Frank joked.

Rob thawed a little. "You're gross, Dad."

"I seem to recall telling you before that that was my job," Frank said airily. "My hair may be a little greyer now, and I may have a few more wrinkles, and my back might be sore when I wake up in the morning, but...Wait: what were we talking about? I can't remember."

He snuck a look at the boy. Rob was smiling faintly now, but he was still avoiding eye contact. Tough room.

Frank drew up a chair and sat down. "OK, Rob. How about if we just cut the crap and have a real conversation? Ask me anything you want, and I promise you I'll answer honestly. Anything. Go."

Rob's head began to spin. There were so many things he wanted to ask. So many things. "Who is Gail's real father, and what does he have to do with me?" Rob blurted out.

Frank nearly fell off his chair. "Why would you ask me that, Rob?" he countered.

"Because," Rob answered him. "Because I want to know why I am the way I am."

Frank sighed. "A very logical, reasonable thing to say. Unfortunately, I can't tell you that, because I don't know. Now I'll make you another promise: as soon as we take care of Lucifer, we'll do our best to get you the answers you're looking for. OK?"

Rob frowned. It wasn't, really, but he guessed it would have to be, for now.

"Tell you what," Frank continued. "Since I wasn't able to answer that one, you get another one."

Rob looked him in the eyes. "Why did it take you nearly a year to call me?"

Ding ding. Bonus round. Frank nodded slowly. He'd known that was going to come up. He sighed. He'd promised to answer honestly, hadn't he?

"At first, I didn't think we'd be out there that long," Frank told the boy. "Every other time, we were able to take care of whatever b.s. that Lucifer was dishing out pretty quickly. We beat his stupid hijacking plan in one night." Frank swallowed past the lump that was trying to form in his throat when he thought of the hijackings. That night was the night he had talked to Matt for the first time. Matty's death had hit Frank hard. It was going to take him a while to get past that one.

"Anyway, we weren't even supposed to have cell phones," Frank continued. "Cas didn't want to take any chances. Tommy had his, but we'd been instructed to communicate through Angel Radio only."

"Well, so what?" Rob blurted out angrily. "Since when do you take orders from Cas?"

Frank appraised his son coolly. "OK, Rob. I know you're growing up, and you have a right to ask questions. But you're gonna have to watch that attitude. We were soldiers, and Cas was the General in that situation. We're humans, and he's the highest-ranking Angel they've got. Look, if I had it to do over again, I'd do it differently. But the bottom line is, it was a war out there. There's a reason I look like this, you know. You were here, safe and warm and well taken care of. We were out there, in the mud and the blood. My best friend got killed out there because I was somewhere else, sleeping. There were school buses on the roads with dead kids in them. Every time I looked at them, I saw your face. We were out there trying to make the world liveable for you, Rob. Don't you get that?"

"Yeah, I get it," Rob retorted. "So, tell me something, Dad: Is the world liveable for me now? Can I walk out the door and stand in the backyard? Can I go down to the mall and hang out with kids my own age, now? Maybe talk to somebody who's not, like, a hundred years old? Can I do that now, Dad?"

Frank stood quickly from his chair. "You get it?!" he shouted. "You don't get a damn thing! Ever since we took you in, you've had people falling all over themselves to take care of you, and make sure you were happy! Well, if you want to be so grown up, then grow up, Rob! You're not the only one around here whose parents are dead!" He turned his back on the boy and left the room. He started to stalk down the hallway, breathing heavily. Where the hell was he going? Who knew? Who cared?

He walked past Cas and Gail's room. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, making him stop. Incredibly, Gail was lying on the bed, next to her husband's shell of a body, and she was talking to it. Holy crap. Was Frank the only sane one here, or was he the one who'd lost his mind?

He entered the room. "You realize that what you're doing now is creepy as hell, right?" Frank said to his sister.

Gail sat up. "No, it's not. And even if it is, so what?"

"I have so many Weekend At Bernie's jokes running through my head right now, it's literally too much for my brain to handle," Frank said, smirking.

"That's not funny, Frank," Gail rebuked him. "This waiting is killing me. You all took off, and I didn't know what to do with myself."

"I've got something you can do," Frank told her. "You know that envelope you got at our old house? You've still got that at home, right?"

Gail got off the bed. "Yeah, it's in the bureau in our bedroom," she replied. "I put it there for safekeeping. I was going to open it after this whole thing with Lucifer was over. Who knew it was going to take this long? Why?"

"I think we should see what's in there," Frank said. "Between what Quinn said earlier, and what Rob just asked me, maybe we'd better just have a look, at least." He went on to describe the conversation he'd just had with Rob.

Gail's heart sank. She remembered what that was like. When she was growing up, she'd been unable to get any answers, either. It had been extremely frustrating. But she'd been younger than Rob was now, and by the time she and Frank had gone on the run, she'd just had to accept that her powers were a part of who she was. Rob's powers, and his true parentage, were one big mystery that Gail could definitely relate to. But she also felt for Frank. Her brother had been out there fighting, busting his ass, facing the same horrors as she had, and all the kid could do was complain. She wouldn't have been too happy about that if she were Frank, either.

"OK, Frank," she said. "I'll pop us over to the house. Let me just find Sam and tell him where we're going."

A few minutes later, she popped Frank over to her and Cas's house. Sam had told her that he would call Cas's cell phone if he heard from Quinn, or he would have one of the Angels call her on her Radio. He'd also told her about his conversation with Theo. Now, Gail was disappointed. She hadn't really cared before, but now she was thinking that Oliver's journal might be a little more important to this whole thing than she'd originally thought.

She'd popped herself and her brother into the living room, thinking he might want to sit on the couch and wait. But as soon as Gail saw the Christmas tree in the corner, her eyes started to blur with tears. They really had to take that thing down. Every time she looked at it, she was reminded of the difference between last year and this year. So she grabbed Frank's hand and said, "Come on. Keep me company."

They walked down the hall and into the bedroom, and Frank started to laugh. He crossed over to the far side of the bed. "He did it! That son of a gun!" He picked Ralph up and looked at the stuffed toy, then he looked at his sister. "You finally got your Ralph back, after all these years."

Gail smiled warmly. "Now do you see why I love him so much?"

"Ahhh, he's all right," Frank said, replacing Ralph on the nightstand. But he was really pleased. He could only imagine Gail's face when she had gotten the stuffed animal from Cas. The guy really did love his sister. And it was a good thing, too, because Cas had been walking a thin line. Frank knew what Gail was like when she was angry, and she'd been about two steps away from kicking her sainted husband's ass when she'd seen the cushy setup he'd had in Africa. If Frank didn't know better, he'd swear that Cas had had them kill him just so he could get away and let her cool off for a couple of days.

"Here it is," Gail said, retrieving the manila envelope from the bureau drawer. She frowned at it. "Are we really going to open it now?"

Frank shrugged. "Why not?"

"I don't know. It just feels weird, without Cas here," Gail told her brother. But, who was she kidding? Everything felt weird without Cas here.

"So what? They're not HIS parents. If we want to know about his family, all we have to do is pick up the Bible," Frank retorted. "Since when does he make your decisions for you? I'll tell you what: after you open it, you can shove it down your top and let him have a look. How's that?"

Gail stared at him with her mouth open. "You did NOT just say that." Then she burst out laughing. Frank. Only her wonderfully irreverent brother could get away with saying something like that. She came forward, giving him a hug. "Thanks for the laugh, you big poopyhead," she said to him. Then she came out of the embrace and looked at the envelope she was holding. "Well, here goes nothing."

She ripped open the envelope at the flap and reached inside. There was a single sheet of paper inside, with a woman's name and address on it.

"That's it?" Gail said, screwing up her face. "This is the big bombshell?" She showed it to Frank. "Look at this shocker. A lady's name and address. Call the National Enquirer."

"OK, well, it's something, anyway. A place to start. Right?" Frank said.

But Gail was frowning now. "When are we going to talk about the elephant?" she asked her brother.

Frank laughed shortly. "Which one? It's appropriate we just spent Christmas in Africa, 'cause there's a whole herd of elephants in our lives right now."

She nodded. He was definitely right about that. "How about the mounting evidence that my father might have killed your parents?"

Frank's face fell. "Never mind that; what about the mounting evidence that Crowley might have actually been telling the truth? Because that's even scarier."

Gail laughed. Smartass. But that comment had gotten her to thinking. "It's interesting you should mention him," she mused aloud. "He knows something about all of this that he's not telling. Cas and I confronted him about it a while back." She looked at the piece of paper she held in her hand, and then back at her brother.

"No," Frank said. "No way."

"Why not?" Gail replied. "You said it yourself: I need something to do. Plus, we haven't seen him in over a year. Maybe his attitude about Lucifer has changed."

"Cas would kill me if I let you go see him by yourself," Frank remarked.

She cocked an eyebrow. "If you LET me? I'm sorry, but the last time I looked in the mirror, I was a grown woman."

"Yeah, and you'll be a stupid-ass one, if you go see the King of Hell without backup," he shot back. "Last I heard, he and Lucifer were in bed together, and I might not even be speaking metaphorically."

Her lips twitched. "OK, number one, that was a good one. And number two, which is an appropriate expression in this case if ever I heard one, I've dealt with Crowley by myself before, Frank. He doesn't scare me."

Frank let out a frustrated breath. She was picking one hell of a time to be stubborn about something. "OK, how about this, then? How about the fact that you're thinking about going to see the King of the Demons, one of our worst enemies, while you're wearing a glass vial that contains the Angel Castiel's life essence around your neck? Do you think THAT might be kind of a stupid move?"

Gail's hand flew to her chest. Crap. He was right. What had she been thinking? "You're right, Frank. I'm an idiot."

He made a face. "That figures. You're finally admitting it, and there aren't any witnesses. Just my luck." He looked back at the stuffed penguin. "Ralph, you heard that, right?"

"Lucky he's not a canary, because he might sing," Gail quipped.

"Or a stool pigeon," Frank added.

"Or a stuffed pig, because then, he might squeal on me," Gail fired back.

Frank was grinning now. "OK, now you're just being ridiculous," he told her. "How can a penguin be a pig? I think you just wanted to get the last word in, as usual. Poor Cas. Does he ever get the last word?"

Her smile faded. "He never wants it," Gail said softly. "But let me tell you something, Frank. If he comes back to me in one piece, I'll let him have all the last words he wants."

Frank pulled her in for a hug. "He will, don't worry," he assured her.

"OK, well, we might as well go back to the bunker now," Gail said after a moment. She went back to the bureau and put the envelope and the piece of paper it had contained back in the drawer. "We'll worry about that later." She closed the drawer, then extended her hand to her brother. He took it, and she winked them back.

Cas was trying to hold on to his temper. Luke was trembling in fear now, but he was still being obstinate.

"Why would I help you to defeat Lucifer, when he is in position to take over the Earth?" Luke said archly.

"Is that what you think? That he's taking over the Earth?" Cas said scornfully. "Then, let me ask you something: Why hasn't he done it by now? How long has he been free? Yet we're all still alive, and all he has done is screw around."

The Gospel writer was shocked. It was Castiel who was looking like the Devil at the moment. He was pacing the floor in Luke's living room, wearing all black clothing, and his eyes were blazing. And the language he was using was more suited to back alleys and barrooms than Heaven. That must be the human influence, Luke thought disdainfully.

"The Master does things in his own time, at his own pace," Luke said calmly.

Castiel laughed harshly. "Is that what he told you? Of course it is. It's a ready-made excuse for failure, isn't it? Well, I hate to tell you this, Luke, but you're backing the wrong horse."

Luke's forehead wrinkled. Horse? What would a horse have to do with it? Was Abel reverting to his shepherding background? No, not Abel; Castiel. That was who he was now. As one of the original writers of the Bible, Luke knew the Angel's true identity, of course. But he'd also discovered that he was far from the peaceful shepherd he'd been then.

Cas saw the confused expression on the Gospel writer's face, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He knew that look. He used to wear it a lot himself. But he couldn't afford to show amusement right now. He knew that Luke was feeling intimidated by him, and he had to keep the pressure on.

"It's an expression," Cas continued, "meaning that you're on the wrong side. Lucifer is taking over nothing. If he were able to do it, he would have done it by now. His minions are all dead or deserting him, as are his lieutenants. Well, the ones that are still alive, that is. You know that Mark is dead, I presume?"

"Yes, I know," Luke said soberly. "I felt the connection sever. How did he die?"

Cas took a calculated risk. He stared at Luke. "How do you think?"

Luke began to quiver again, and Cas pressed his advantage. "It would seem that being a Gospel writer is a dangerous occupation," he said coolly. "John was murdered, and so was Mark. And I discovered Matthew's dead body in Heaven, myself. He was pinned to the floor with the knife."

"I thought that Matthew committed suicide," Luke said in a shaky voice.

So did we, Cas thought. But he didn't say so, of course, because it didn't suit his purposes. He just continued to stare at Luke.

"My Master will take care of me if I remain loyal to him," Luke insisted stubbornly.

"Really?" Cas said with a cold smile. "I noticed, when he went to Heaven, he went by himself, leaving Mark behind on Earth to be his houseboy. And, on another occasion, he left Paul behind as bait to be tortured by me, to save his own hide. But, you go on thinking that he'll take care of you, Luke. Good luck with that."

Luke's blood ran cold. He hated to admit it, but he had no doubts that Castiel was telling him the truth. That was just the sort of thing that Lucifer would do. He had refused to release Luke from the Netherworld when he'd first gotten free, hadn't he? What made Luke think that his Master's position would be any different now?

"I may have been riding the wrong horse, as you say," Luke said thoughtfully. Cas bit the inside of his cheek again. Luke sighed heavily. Hadn't he known, deep down, that Lucifer would leave him here to rot? But Luke realized something else, now. He actually liked his existence here. It was safe, and it was serene. From what he could tell, life on Earth and even in Heaven was tumultuous and violent. Why would he want any part of it?

"All right, Castiel. I will tell you what you want to know. If you will agree to leave me in peace, I will tell you what the item is that you seek." A pause. "It is Lucifer's Angel blade."

Cas's mind raced. Of course. That made perfect sense. He knew that Lucifer didn't have his blade; their Father must have taken it and stashed it somewhere for safekeeping. "And where it it?" he asked Luke eagerly.

"In New York City," replied Luke. "In the heart of Jacob's Ladder, in the 52nd position."

Cas's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"I do not know, Castiel. That is the information I have, and that is all that I have," Luke said nervously. He didn't like that way that Castiel's expression had darkened.

Cas was fed up. Why must everything be in riddles? Just once, he would like to receive a plain, unambiguous answer to a question. Was that too much to ask? Then he smiled inwardly. He might owe Sam and Dean an apology when he got back. They'd been basically asking Cas the same thing since the beginning of their relationship with him.

"Are you certain that you are telling me everything?" Castiel asked, staring Luke down. "I don't want to come back here, but if you have given me incomplete or faulty information, I will. And the next time, I'll be armed."

"I'm telling you everything I know, Castiel, I swear," Luke said quickly.

Cas continued to stare at the Gospel writer for a minute. Then he let out a breath. That would have to do, then. At least he had an item, and a location. The rest he would have to give to Sam and Tommy and hope that they could figure it out. "I'll let myself out," he said tersely. Then he left Luke's house and started to walk back to Linda's cottage. Amazingly enough, even though she lived by the seaside and Luke lived in a suburban area, it only took him a few minutes. But then again, this was the Netherworld. Time and space were very fluid here.

"Cas! That was quick," Linda said, rising from her chair. She was sitting out back with a blank canvas and a charcoal pencil. She'd just drawn the outline of a man, in preparation to paint a portrait. She'd just suddenly had the urge to pick up her brush. Right now, she had no idea what the man was going to look like, only that she needed to paint him. "Did he tell you?"

Cas nodded. "Yes, he told me everything he knows. Which of course means that we have to figure it out for ourselves. As usual." He gave her a weary smile. "I'm going to go back to the rendezvous point and wait. Can you do me a favour? Can you go to Quinn's and let her know that I'm ready to return? Then, please tell her to ask Sam and Dean to perform the summoning spell for me. They'll know what that means."

"OK, Cas," Linda said. "And, Cas?"

"Yes, Linda," he asked.

She gave him a spontaneous hug. He may not have a corporeal body on Earth, but he had one here, and Linda had missed the contact. She knew she came across as a so-called dragon lady sometimes, but Linda had a lot of love in her heart too, and no one to give it to here in the Netherworld. "It was good to see you," she told Cas. "Please give my love to everyone."

Cas returned her embrace. "I will, Linda. Thank you for all your help."

And then he was gone.

So Linda had gone to see Quinn, Quinn had called Sam and given him the message, and Sam had passed it on to the group.

"The summoning spell? What's that?" Frank had asked.

The brothers looked at each other. "It's a spell to summon an entity," Sam said, logically enough.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Ummmm...yeah. I kind of got that. To summon who? Or, what?"

"Death," Dean said bluntly.

Frank heaved a sigh. "I could have been born into a nice, normal family. I could even have lived with being a Kardashian, if I'd really had to. But, no...I had to end up here, with you guys."

"Says the guy who was rescued by his brother-in-law, who was God at the time, from the depths of Hell," Sam quipped with a grin.

Frank did a Dean-like double-take, and then he smiled. Sam had him, there. It wasn't as if Frank's life had been normal before, either. He supposed he couldn't really blame the Winchesters for the amount of weird that was going on now. It was just par for the course, when you thought about it.

"I'll go to the storage room and get the stuff," Dean said. "Do you remember the incantation, Sammy? It's been a while."

Sam thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure I do, but I'll check the file anyway," he said.

"Wow, 'dead file' takes on a whole new meaning," Frank wisecracked.

"I'm still working on Dean using the word 'incantation'," Jody added with a smile.

Sam came back with a piece of paper in his hand. "What's that?" Gail asked him.

"It's the summoning incantation," he told her. "Dean's gone to get the ingredients. We put them all in a bowl, light it on fire, and then Death will appear. I assume Cas cleared it with him, because the last time we summoned him this way, he wasn't too thrilled."

"That's an understatement," Dean said. He came back into the library area carrying a box, which he upended onto the table. "He told us the next time we summoned him like that, he would need a sacrifice. Are your affairs in order, Frank?"

Gail's brother eyed him suspiciously. "I'll tell the jokes around here, Winchester," he said, scowling.

Dean smirked. "Well, Death isn't big on humour, so if you're gonna hang around and meet him, you'd better put the kibosh on the jokes."

"Meet him?" Frank said, startled. "What do you mean, meet him?"

Dean was selecting ingredients from the pile he'd made on the table. "What do you think a summoning spell is for, Einstein? We're gonna call Death to come here, and then he's gonna put Cas back in his body."

Oh, geez, Frank thought. He'd had no idea that this was the way things worked. Now he had a dilemma: He was kind of curious to meet the guy, but he didn't want Death anywhere near Jody or Rob.

Jody had absolutely no desire to meet Death, and she was thinking the same thing about Rob. Barry and Tommy were looking at each other, and Bobby was frowning. Even the Angels who remained in the bunker, Riley, Kevin and Chuck, looked extremely uneasy.

"I'll tell you what," Gail said. "Why don't I take you guys over to our place until he's gone? He probably wouldn't appreciate a crowd, anyway."

Dean was tossing the ingredients in a bowl now. "That's a good idea," he said.

So Gail popped everyone over to her house except for Frank, who had insisted that he wanted to stay. Jody had rolled her eyes at her husband, but she had said nothing, just collected Rob for Gail to transport them.

Barry had shaken his head when he'd seen the Christmas tree in Gail and Cas's living room. Gail saw what he was looking at, and she shrugged. "What can I say? We never got the chance to take it down."

"Leave it to us," Barry said briskly. "Since we'll just be hanging around here anyway, we'll take it down for you."

"Would you?" Gail said, pleased. "We would appreciate that." She set the candlesticks down on the coffee table. The standard protections were still in place, of course, but she'd wanted to make sure. Besides, she was unsure as to whether the sacred objects would present an impediment to Death. She'd debated with Sam and Dean about it, but they couldn't say definitively, one way or the other. While he was not an evil individual, per se, Death was an ancient entity who defied categorization, and Gail hadn't wanted to delay getting Cas back on a technicality.

She kissed Barry on the cheek and told him she'd be back as soon as their business was completed, and then she winked herself back to the bunker.

Dean tossed the match into the bowl, and Sam began the incantation. He'd committed it to memory, or at least he thought he had. But when he got to the last line, he faltered. Crap. He reached into his shirt pocket, but before he could retrieve the piece of paper it was written down on, Gail said, "Rogamus autem vos mortem."

Sam looked at her, startled. She'd just completed the incantation by saying, "Death, we beseech you," in flawless Latin! "How did you know that?" he asked her.

But Gail was mystified. "I have no idea," she said dazedly.

"Yes, I would be very interested in the answer to that question, as well," Death said dryly. He appeared before them, and he was looking at Gail speculatively. "I was not aware that you were experienced in necromancy."

"Neither was I," Gail responded. She had no idea what that even was, but she didn't want to admit it.

But now, Death was looking at Frank. "What is your brother doing here?"

"You know me?" Frank blurted out.

"Of course I do, Frank," Death replied calmly. "One of my Reapers came for you a few years ago, but Crowley had already taken you. At the time, your soul was insignificant, so I didn't bother to speak to Crowley about it."

"I don't know whether to be flattered, or insulted," Frank said, bemused.

Death looked at him with a dour expression, saying nothing, and the smile faded on Frank's lips. Wow. They hadn't been kidding. This dude had absolutely no sense of humour.

"Take me to Castiel's vessel," Death ordered them.

The group walked him down the hall to the room where Cas's body was, and when they got there, Death looked at Gail. "You are carrying his essence, I presume?"

Gail nodded. She removed the chain from around her neck and handed it to him, cradling the vial in her hand. He took it from her. Then he bent to Castiel's body and introduced the essence back into it.

A moment later, Cas's eyelashes fluttered. He opened his eyes, then smiled when he saw his wife and friends.

"I will be going now," Death told them. "We have a common goal, which is to remove the scourge that is Lucifer from the Earth. Castiel had promised me that you will all do whatever it takes to accomplish that goal. Keep that in mind, when the time comes for you to fulfill your roles." Then he disappeared.

Frank let out a breath. "Remind me to invite him to our next party," he said in a shaky voice. "He's probably a riot with a drink or two in him."

Sam grinned and Dean laughed shortly, but Gail ignored her brother. She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Cas. "Are you all right, sweetie?" she asked him softly.

"It's strange for you to be asking me that," he said. "Usually, it's the other way around." He tried to sit up, but he felt lightheaded. "Give me a moment," he said.

"Of course," Gail said. She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"We just met your pal, Death," Frank said to Cas. "Wow. And we call YOU Major Buzzkill. He wouldn't just kill your buzz, he would shoot it, nuke it, run over it with a bus, and then stomp on it."

"Can you please just shut up for a minute, Frank?" Gail said irritably. "Give Cas a second to regroup, will you?"

But her husband was sitting up now, and he was smiling at what Frank had said. "Well, his name IS Death, Frank," Cas remarked. "I don't think you'll find him doing stand-up in your local comedy club."

Frank broke into a grin. "You know what, Cas? That was excellent," he enthused. "I'd give you a high-five if I wasn't afraid Gail would rip my arm off at the shoulder."

Cas smiled gently, touching Gail's cheek. "She's just trying to take care of me," he said, looking warmly at his wife. "What I've just experienced can be a little disconcerting."

"Did you get the information, Cas?" Sam asked.

"Yes, and no," his Angel friend replied. "I got as much information as there was to get. I'm going to need you and Tommy to do some research."

Sam nodded. What else was new? "Yeah, OK. We can do that, Cas."

"I think I'm all right to get up now," Cas told Gail. She stood up from the bed and moved aside. He swung his legs onto the floor and stood. Then he looked at the men. "Thank you for your help. The missing item is Lucifer's blade, and it's somewhere in New York City. Exactly where, remains to be seen. Let's go out to the library. While Sam and Tommy check their computers, the rest of us can brainstorm."

"Are you sure you're up to it, sweetie?" Gail asked him.

Cas put his arm around her. "I'm fine, Gail. Truly, I am. I'm just so happy to be back with all of you. We're so close to ending this. I can feel it."

Gail was over the moon. Cas was back with them now, and they were going to put their heads together and figure this out. They always had before. And then, Lucifer would be toast. Then, the rest of their lives could finally begin.

Minutes later, they were all gathered around the table. Sam had been typing away on his laptop, and it hadn't taken him long to find a good starting point.

"Jacob's Ladder is the colloquial name for the connection between Heaven and Earth," he told them all. "According to legend, the Angels of God ascend and descend on it. It represents the ups and downs of life, and the constantly changing affairs of man. It says here that the rungs of the ladder could also represent a constant improvement in oneself."

But Cas was shaking his head. "I've heard all of that before, but the ladder that expression refers to is purely metaphorical. There is no such thing as an actual, physical ladder. The notion came about when a very imaginative philosopher was looking at the crepuscular rays one day, and imagined a ladder of morality, if you will, that humans could use to ascend to the Kingdom of Heaven."

"What kind of rays were those?" Frank piped up. "Craptacular?"

Cas smiled. "No, Frank. Crepuscular. Those are the beams of light that radiate from the gaps in clouds. They are sometimes called God's Rays, or Fingers of God. But, I have also heard them referred to as Jacob's Ladder. Presumably because whomever coined the term pictured ascending, or descending, along them."

"'And she's buying a stairway to Heaven'," Dean quoted. "I guess Zeppelin had it right all along."

Sam rolled his eyes, smirking. "Wow. We've really gotta update your musical references, dude. No wonder the kids think you're old."

Dean frowned. "Who thinks that?"

Kevin, Riley, and Rob raised their hands. After a moment, Becky and Ethan did, too.

Dean's look grew dark. "Who asked you?" he barked.

"Ummm...you did," Ethan pointed out.

"Give him a break, Ethan. He might not remember," Riley said. "When people get older, their memories aren't so good."

Dean looked incredulously at Riley, and then he looked at Gail. "I blame you for him," he told her, gesturing to Riley. "He used to be respectful until you got a hold of him."

Gail laughed. "Well, I hate to tell you this, but I agree with them," she said. "You've got to let go of that dinosaur rock. Next time you're busy elsewhere, Sam and I are going to sneak into Baby and replace all your tapes with hip-hop and pop music. Actually, we should just rip out the tape deck and put a CD system in there. Or do you still use 8-track?"

The young Angels exchanged puzzled glances. "8 Track?" Riley said. "What's that?"

Bobby sat back in his chair, his beard twitching furiously. "I'm enjoying this," he said to Dean. "Now you know how it feels."

"I'll deal with you guys," Dean said, scowling. "I don't know when, and I don't know how, but..."

"Well, while you're figuring that out, I've got something that might actually be relevant to the subject at hand," Tommy said. "Cas also mentioned the number 52. That rang a bell, so I went back over my notes. When I was doing my research on Egypt way back when for the first Tablet, I came upon an article that featured the number 52." He was scrolling down, looking for the folder. "Yeah. Here it is. The article talks about 52 sacred writings that were discovered in Egypt in 1945, in a cave that was dug in a mountain at a location called Nag Hammadi. I kept a copy of the article and my notes because I found it interesting, and I wondered at the time whether it might pertain to the Tablet. But when you came back with it, the point was rendered moot. But now that we're talking about the number 52, I wonder if this bears investigation."

"Sacred writings?" Cas asked, curious. "What kind of sacred writings?" He got up from his chair and walked over to where Tommy sat, peering over his shoulder at the computer screen.

"Sorry; it doesn't say," Tommy replied.

Cas was thoughtful. Tommy was right. The article was very brief and lacking in detail.

"Do you think that's significant, Cas?" Tommy asked him.

Cas frowned. "I honestly don't know," he admitted. "That's not much to go on."

"'Nag Hammadi'," Frank remarked. "That's a weird name. It almost sounds like an anagram."

"You're right," Sam agreed. "But what would that be an anagram for?" He wrote down the letters of the words on a sheet of paper. He studied them for a moment, then said, "Hey, Jodes. You're good at anagrams. Come here. Take a look."

She went over to where Sam sat, peering over his shoulder at the letters. After a moment, she shrugged. "I'm stumped. All I can come up with is 'Damn hag I am'."

"Over to you, Frank," Dean quipped.

"If you think I'm going near that one, you're crazy," Frank said, grinning.

"Smart man," Jody said, looking at her husband.

"Boy, that's a phrase you don't hear every day," Gail chipped in, her lips twitching.

"What, in connection with your brother, do you mean?" Jody asked her.

"No, I'm gonna go with: in connection with men, in general," Gail said pertly.

Sure enough, all of the men in the room objected, and Gail sat back in her chair, looking at them all fondly. Now, this was more like it. She had missed out on a lot of things over the past year, but this was what she might have missed the most, the easy banter and camaraderie that existed between all of the members of her blended family. Even when they were insulting each other. Maybe even especially when they were.

Cas was looking at her affectionately. He couldn't help but compare how things were right now with the sadness and despair of the past year, and the isolation and sterility he had seen in the Netherworld. He was prepared to do whatever it took to hold onto his family. Anything it took.

"According to what I see here, there were twelve codices buried in a sealed jar, and discovered by a local farmer in 1945," Tommy said to everyone. Cas was still looking over his shoulder, and he was scanning the additional information that their friend was pulling up now.

"Twelve what?" Dean asked Tommy. "Codpieces?" He looked at Frank. "See? I can be funny, too."

Frank rolled his eyes. "'Codpieces'? Amateur. That was way too easy."

"But it WAS funny," Gail said, smiling. "I'll allow it. Let the medieval genital jokes commence."

"Before they do, and might I add that I may have a couple of those myself, let me just finish," Tommy said with a smile. "The so-called sacred writings are known as the Gnostic Gospels. The leather-bound papyrus codices were housed in the Nag Hammadi library for a while, but...they're currently in the Coptic Museum in Cairo, Egypt, along with some newly discovered artifacts from the Valley of Kings."

"The Valley of Kings?" Sam said with interest. "What a coincidence. I wonder if the stuff we found when we got the Tablet is there."

"OK, Sammy, before you have a nerdgasm, I wanna get back to those codpiece jokes," Dean smirked.

"It's 'codice', Dean," Cas said distractedly. "That means, manuscript pages, which are held together by stitchings."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Major Buzzkill." Frank and Sam exchanged glances with Dean and with each other, snapping off salutes. "Major Buzzkill," they said simultaneously.

Gail was shaking her head. Oh, great. Not only were they mocking her husband, but now, they were being synchronized about it.

"Is that going to be a thing?" Chuck asked the men. "'Cause I'd like to get in on it."

"Et tu, Chuck?" Gail asked him.

Chuck shrugged. "I'm sorry, Gail, but that's funny."

She gave up. "So, the bottom line is, we're going to Egypt. Right?"

Cas looked up from the computer. "I think we'll have to," he told her. "Right now, this looks like our best lead."

Her brow furrowed. "But what would this have to do with Lucifer's blade being somewhere in New York City?" Gail asked him.

Cas frowned. He honestly had no idea. "I don't know, my love. But, it seems to be all we have, at the moment."

She nodded. She guessed he was probably right. But it felt a little off to her, like they were reaching. Sam noticed the expression on her face. "What's the matter, Gail?" he asked her.

"I don't know, Sam," she said thoughtfully. "I just have a feeling we're looking for zebras, here."

Sam smiled and nodded. He knew exactly what she meant. But, Cas was puzzled. "What do wild African beasts have to do with anything?" he asked them.

"It's an expression, Cas," Tommy explained. As a former investigative reporter, he knew what Gail had been getting at, as well. "It means that sometimes, in an investigation, the tendency might be to look for something more complicated as an explanation, rather than just sticking to the basics. To paraphrase, it's advised that when hearing hoofbeats, think horses, rather than zebras."

Cas thought about that. "Do you think we're looking for zebras?" he asked his wife. She shrugged. "I don't know, Cas," she replied uncomfortably. "I could be wrong. What the hell do I know? You would know a lot more about this kind of thing than I would."

Cas thought some more. Then he pressed his lips together. "Well, unless we can come up with something else, I still think we need to go there," he said.

"Great!" Dean enthused. "Nicole's there right now!"

"Dean, we're not going on a pleasure trip, we're going on a fact-finding mission," Cas said sternly.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but it was Gail who spoke. "While I agree with you on principle, can't we just take a few minutes to pop over there?" she asked her husband. She rose from her chair and moved around the table to where Cas stood, giving Dean a wink on the way by. When Gail reached Cas, she put her arms around him. "If these codice thingies are supposed to be ancient sacred writings, maybe we can see if Metatron knows anything about them. Besides, we probably should just check in with him, anyway. We've been incommunicado for over a year now," Gail argued persuasively.

Cas gave her a squeeze. He knew what she was doing. Still, her point was well taken. "All right. We can stop by the movie set for a short time," he told them. Then he looked down at Tommy. "Do you have any more information?" Cas asked their friend.

"I'll tell you what," Gail said. "While you guys are doing that, I'll pop over to our place and change. If you think I'm going to Egypt wearing a thick sweater like the one I've got on, you don't know me very well."

Cas smiled. "All right, my love. I'll see you in a minute."

Gail walked over to where Dean sat, leaning down to talk into his ear. "Who's got your back?" she said softly.

Dean grinned. "Thanks, Mrs. Buzzkill."

Gail popped out of the library area, over to her and Cas's house. She went into the bedroom and changed into a short-sleeved top, leaving her sweater on the bed. She glanced over at the nightstand on the other side of the bed. Impulsively, she walked over there and picked Ralph up, giving him a hug. "Aren't we lucky?" she asked the stuffed penguin. "We have the greatest family in the world, and the most loving husband in the universe. I'm popping over to Egypt now, and then I'll probably be going to New York City. Can you imagine, Ralph? Me, going to all of those exotic places. Having adventures. Just like we always talked about." Then she smiled. "Well, to be fair, I did most of the talking. You were just a great listener. You still are." She hugged Ralph once more, then propped him up against the pillows on the bed. "There. You can guard the house for us while we're gone."

But then, Gail shook her head, smiling at herself. If the guys could see her now, she'd never be able to live it down. A grown woman, talking to a stuffed animal. But, screw 'em, she thought affectionately. There was no one here, and she and Ralph had a lot of catching up to do.

She was just about to pop herself back to the bunker when she heard a noise. It sounded like it was coming from elsewhere in the house. She took her blade out of her pocket, releasing the spring. It was probably nothing. The house had every known protection there was. She walked down the hall into the living room. Nothing. Obviously, she was being paranoid. But then, she heard the noise again. Now she realized that it was coming from the door which led to the back porch. She went there and opened the inside door. The screen door was open, and it was a windy day. This was the noise she'd heard; the door's hinges were squeaky. She would have to talk to Cas about that. She stepped out onto the porch to retrieve the door and close it. The wind was buffeting the screen door, taking it just out of her reach.

"Damn T-Rex arms," Gail sighed. She stepped out onto the porch to grab the door.

And that was when Lucifer took her.

\- END OF BOOK 24. -


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